They wouldn't send some help; they wouldn't let him run alone to warn his team that was seriously in danger… that wasn't making any sense!

"General, you gotta be kiddin' me!" Cam let out with shock, before trying to find a good reason for that refusal: "Do they already know? Is there any trouble with the Gate that would keep them from coming back or sending someone in?"

But the old man seemed to quickly lose patience and being pissed off by the colonel's behaviour, getting even more severe looking… and even seemed to stay willingly out of Mitchell's reach somehow. Yet before he could say anything to the younger man, Cam suddenly got struck by a bad feeling and exclaimed with clear trouble and disappointment:

"Sir, it's b'cause you think I'm not in condition to leave off-world, right…?"

"Someone, get me doctor Lam… and fast." Landry said so seriously to one of the technician beside him, not taking his piercing eyes off Mitchell as if he was watching him carefully. The technician made the proper call for her.

"General, I don't need to go back there; there is more serious thing going on and the worst I get are some mild scratches… I'm fine!"

Mitchell tried to convince him, looking even more desperate: he was losing precious time and soon will be taken back and held down at the infirmary if he wasn't leaving the place. But something bothered him: he immediately lowered his eyes and lifted his hands to check at his forearms… Again, he was shocked; where were the wounds he had before Lam would sedate him?! There wasn't even a scar or a bandage left, nothing that would tell of any injury. He couldn't have slept long enough for that to heal… and that damn spike wouldn't still be there to heal him isn't it? Cam unconsciously touched his chest where it has been only to find that there wasn't anything, keeping his utterly puzzled and freaked out stare on his forearms. Dizziness was overwhelming him again like the confusion was too much for his already weary and confused body and mind.

"I couldn't have just imagined it: what did the so called Jacobson and Lam treated then?!"

Mitchell let out with shock and talking to himself, not realising he was clearly heard by everyone in the room. And it wasn't helping him: they looked at him as if he was some kind of mad man… Landry was even more exasperated and annoyed looking as he fought to tell Mitchell without being too harsh on Cameron: after all it wasn't his fault if he was losing track on reality the general was thinking…

"Mitchell: you are not fine at all, whatever what you're thinking." He paused, eying the now quite startled colonel, and then kept on: "And I don't what brought the idea in your stubborn mind, but SG1 is dismissed for a week and none are confronting the Ori in any way!"

"Dismissed?... But I saw them getting killed and…" Cam began with surprise and astonishment, interrupting himself when he realised how wrong what he was saying sounded. Yet it was too late.

"You saw them?..." Landry began, frowning on that particular statement that was telling him his colonel was going worst than he thought.

"That young… that other man in the infirmary he was there before getting' injured, he knew what was going to happen: just ask him!"

Tried Cam, to defend himself, knowing that explaining what he saw back on the bed wasn't quite sane looking now that he got to think about it. He was breathing more quickly and in a shallow way; in an attempt to control the burst of anger, utter concern and shock that, all melted together, were beginning to overwhelm him. He had to stay calm, whatever was going on and what he hoped it would be happening for real, and to not get lost in this madness. But slowly something began to bother him in his breathing: just as he had his airway numb before the moment but it was gradually able to feel again.

"No one has been injured in the past two days." Interrupted Landry firmly: why was Lam taking that long to get there and take care of the now crazy colonel? That was kind of hard, even for him, to see a once so valuable leader getting unable to behave sanely…

"Fine, you'll ask your daughter then… you'll see I haven't just imagined all this!" Cam replied wryly, nearly losing his cool.

In fact he was getting even more bothered with the strange feeling down his trachea as if the stress of his situation wasn't enough. Yet, as he tried to take a deep breath, planning to seriously apologize for being so disrespectful with his general, it felt as if something simply blocked the way to his bronchus that suddenly. Immediately he gasped and tried to cough out what was choking him, clasping his hands at the base of his neck; but that wouldn't work. How alarming it was and quickly he was starving for oxygen, mouth gaped, blinking his wild eyes and choking even more, unable to breath in or even out. Quickly, his vision was blurring and his lungs in fire, his headache so intense he thought somebody struck him right on the skull from behind and he was so light-headed he could have sworn he wasn't touching the ground anymore.

He wanted to call for help, in utter distress and unable to understand what was going on and why he was strangled by an invisible hold or why everybody in the room were not doing anything to help but stare at him. Cam's absolutely shocked pale face went to a more blush-like color first, but when his mind became more and more as choked as he was, he got back to an even paler complexion.

"Remove the apparatus; he's trying to breath."

Mitchell dropped a knee to the floor, still nearly passing over but somewhat taken aback for an odd reason: straight in his foggy mind, he heard a muffled voice, unable to recognise it or even tell if it was a masculine or feminine one; only a sputter shrieking in his brain and driving the pain in his head even worst and even more alarming. He was hearing voices now… great.

He was going to die; he could feel it, even if he couldn't make any sense of what was going on actually: his world was twirling and he feared he was going nut. Not even a scream or a huskily wheezing, not even helped by the people working with him everyday or so… Cam was still trying to breathe in, or even to breath out, to cough out whatever was choking him but it was useless, just as if he had no power on all that anymore. Somewhere before his nearly blinded eyes, a pale shape seemed to rush his way, speaking something he couldn't hear or understand, resting a hand he barely felt on his back.

"He's not ready to do it by himself yet; we must set the ventilator back…"

That voice again, concerned or maybe pressing, so distorted, so close yet far at the same time that it sounded dreadful. Every word would seem to knock on his temples and down his spine, like it was clawing and trying to tear off his life away. Mitchell had the feeling he was hearing it with a kind of time-lag, like it began before he would choke with no reason at all but the words were coming late and foolish into his mind filled with cobwebs… As he was already weakly thinking of his own death, air rushed suddenly in his airway and back in his burning lungs, causing a so unexpected and brutal shock that the man simply fainted and collapsed from his kneeled position into a black abyss.

"So, how Mitchell's doing?" Hank asked Lam as he was entering the room with his usual military mannerisms.

"Only a few minutes ago we thought he would breathe all by himself and without the tube, but we were wrong. He still needs the ventilator and we will wait a little bit more to try to remove the tube next time." The physician explained as she was completing checking on another patient.

"Is it something we should be worrying about?" The man asked, frowning with wonder. After all he knew that needing that kind of care was serious, but he knew that some people are set to that kind of equipment after a harmless surgery as well…

"Well probably not, at least not that detail: he is getting more fretful even if he is still unconscious and his encephalogram is showing unusual pikes. We're still trying to figure out what it may be though it doesn't seem to be fever or any kind of internal damage." Lam answered.

"Internal damages; an injury to the torso could drive a man agitated?" Hank wondered.

"I was thinking more of brain injuries: he had a bad concussion, even with the alien object healing effect." The physician said.

"Ah don't mention that: he asked me to ditch the debriefing to get to you! I wasn't expecting that at all from our colonel…" The general commented, still affected by the scene he saw less than two days ago. "Did he heal from that as well?" He added.

"Almost certainly, though perhaps I would have preferred not: at least I would have an obvious and mild cause for his restlessness instead of a mystery." The physician commented, not showing particular worries but knowing the smallest detail no one noticed could be harmful sometime.

"Should I call back SG1 to inform them? They haven't all leaved yet for that day off..." Landry asked then.

"I don't think we should bother them yet; as I said it is not critical and we haven't found any complication yet, if there is some." Carolyn answered.

Of course she knew they wanted to be informed of any change in Mitchell's condition, they made he swear she would do so, but that wasn't anything that would seriously interest them; at least it was what she wanted to think. The infirmary had to be quiet and with Mal Doran and Jackson's everlasting fights and snappy comments, she didn't want them to hang around for too long as long as their leader wasn't waking up or, she hoped not, getting worst. The general gave her a slight smile just as if he understood her feelings about the visits.

"Fine; you know better than me after all…" Hank let out lightly at his daughter. She smiled back at him friendly but still self-contained since they were still at their serious work.

Now that she was done with her patients and that their conditions were stable, Lam could leave them to the nurses as usual and take care of herself: the general just invited her to lunch with him for their noon halt. The man as well had less work than usual with the momentary shut down of the Gate missions. They both walked out the infirmary. However, some people were watching them carefully, standing in a corner of the corridor that was out of the general and the physician's sight. When those last one left for once, the two hidden ones entered in and walked furtively to Mitchell's bed, taking care to be unnoticed by the nurses working around. After some minutes where they both remained silent, one of them commented with a slight tone of indignation:

"How can they tell he's agitated; he isn't even moving!"

"Maybe he was having spasms or something hours ago, how can I know that, Vala, I don't work here."

Daniel sighed. She insisted to come here to see how Cam was doing and she succeeded to drag Jackson with her. Of course Daniel cared about Mitchell, but he also knew that an injured man coming out of surgery could stay motionless and unconscious for hours, even days in some case. And Carolyn had told them Cam was okay so they had less reason to be worried. But he realised he couldn't be angry at her for being that concerned: she was feeling guilty after all.

"You think he will stir if I poke him?" Mal Doran asked kind of seriously wondering, as curious a child in a way. Was it her way to hide her feelings?

" ' don't think so. » Jackson answered, obviously annoyed.

"And if I pinch him…?"

" ' won't work..."

"And talking to him wouldn't be sufficient either…" Vala said as she was thinking out loud.

"Trying won't hurt." Daniel shrugged.

"You're right: it will not work… What if I slap him in the face?" She kept on, ignoring his words.

"No!"

"Push him off the…"

"Vala; I don't think that Dr Lam would approve or Mitchell would enjoy…"

Daniel interrupted abruptly, a little irritated. When he saw the slightly remorseful look on her face, he felt bad and immediately added on a more soft tone:

"And I think he had enough time to forgive you; you shouldn't worry that much… Now you have to let him enough time to fight the Letelk, or at least what that thing left…"

She didn't answer, lost in her thoughts as her sight wandered on Mitchell that was of course still lying motionless on the bed with all the medical equipments around.

Cam found out he now hated as hell waking up. This time it wasn't light or sound… could have been the headache and the shivering that made his whole body hurt, but that wasn't it and it was worst; his mouth and his throat were so dry that trying to swallow would nearly choke him and bring tears to his eyes. He had to faintly cough and gulp many time before even feeling saliva in his mouth, burning as lava.

"Screw this!"

Cam hissed very hoarsely, shifting painfully and slowly on the mattress the best he could. Yet he couldn't find any comfortable position between those he was able to try with his absolutely stiffed muscles. Perhaps it would be better to only stay still, give up on wanting a cup of coffee, try to get back to sleep and forget it all? To forget?! How ironic: just as he was thinking about that, his memories of the past days at the infirmary came back to his mind and he hated waking up even more. Mitchell grunted and sighed.

But Mitchell quickly realised then that he shouldn't and couldn't be capricious and have to instead focus on the situation. First he had to figure out what the problem really was: was he hallucinating? If yes: what would drive him in a condition where those so realistic visions could be seen and feel? If he wasn't: what was wrong at SGC and how could everybody act so oddly those days? If he was only mixing up reality and hallucinations that could explain some things, but deny some others: how could he tell the difference in that case anyway? What was happening while he was having visions? Did the other knew?...

Yet again he was getting lost in all those questions twirling in his mind, confusing him even more; all those guesses were always wrong at some point of the story, every possibility that seemed stupid was getting possible when he thought about it even more. Eventually, a last question came by and took all his attention suddenly: how could he really know if he was going crazy?... Mitchell tried to drive that thought away, but doubt and dread was creeping over his mind, as quietly but unstoppable as snake venom in a man's blood.

The felt a strange unease to be left alone with a single thought he only wanted to deny, harried to realise he wasn't doing anything useful as he was convincing himself there was no way he could lose his mind. Cameron carefully opened his eyes and waited for his sight to get clear; at least the too bright lights were not just above him this time. Now he had to remain calm whatever was going to happen next, even if he would see ghosts, pink tanks, Carter dressed as Barbie, flying elephant and anything like this; he was Cam Mitchell, leader of a wonderful team that saved so many lives, a great pilot that wasn't scare of any reckless fly stunts, a man of action and tactic… He couldn't just lose his self-control until he found out what was really going on.

The air he was breathing was somewhat cool, even if he seemed to be at the infirmary once again. When Cam focused even more on that subject, the man found out he had something on his face and lifted a hand to touch what it was; an oxygen mask, only that. And that was slightly cheering him up to find at the same time he wasn't fastened this time… now he only had to gather enough willpower to get off that damned bed and start his own little investigation. He gulped few more time and took off that mask, put it on the top of the storage tank just beside the bed and sat up slowly to save his still hurting and stiff muscles. Weird, really really weird: he still had his clothe on, his blue uniform he put on in a hurry, something the medical team never let happen in those situations. Cam didn't know who exactly had the job to undress the unconscious injured people usually, but he had better thing to think about than that anyway.

Choosing to ignore that detail for now, Mitchell got down the bed and stood, waiting for the dark dots to leave his sight and for the floor to stop rolling like he was on the deck of a boat at sea. At least it didn't last too long and he was now able to be steadier and to listen carefully for any sound: if Lam was still around, she would make sure he would get back to his bed… But was there any sense left in that situation to make sure the woman would react in a logical way? After all she was acting strange for sure; as if she was suddenly so cold with him, so disdainful because he supposedly has been violent and mad for days… The others were like this as well and it was kind of intimidating in a way to be treated like that.

Mitchell froze and blinked his wide opened eyes, hoping it wasn't what he thought was happening: something was wrong again and he really didn't like the sound of it… He was nearly feeling fine before, but he realised something so stupid he couldn't believe it: he hadn't breathe in since he stood out of the bed and now he was that ridiculously starving for oxygen. But the situation went from silly to alarming when Cam took a deep breath of air that passed through his airway without any problem, went in his lungs as it should, however then that was getting complicated. Maybe it was his air cells that were stuck; one thing was sure, that puff of oxygen never reached his blood and again he was feeling the too familiar and utterly alarming feeling of suffocation. At the same time the man was as well quite frustrated to be the victim of so many odd and crazy symptoms, taking some more deep breath but never feeling the oxygen to his brain and system. Too dizzy and near passing out to stand, he sat heavily on the side of the bed, agonizing without understanding why, unable to fight it. Again his vision was getting dark and anger flooded him even more at the same time; all that insane situation because of a damned and stupid bloodsucker blue alien!

To be continued…

I hope it wasn't too messed up and/or boring :s