Jack O'Neill lay in his bed, staring bored at the ceiling and counted for the thousandth time the individual panels of the ceiling. He was already alone for a full hour, bored unspeakably. Sam spent as much time with him as possible, but after Janet Frasier returned to the detention cells from this emergency, the two of them were suddenly in a hurry. They merely told him that General Hammond had called a meeting in which Sam had to attend. He wondered what had happened, but he did not get a satisfactory answer from either Frasier or Sam on his questions. He knew the two women were trying to block all off around him, which at first he was grateful for, but he was getting tired of it.
Janet ordered him absolute rest, so he could quickly regain his strength. In his opinion, he had more rest in the last few days than he liked. After all, he had been unconscious for a full three days and it had been another two days since then, during which he mostly slept. He did not remember anything, most importantly he could not explain with the best of intentions how it had happened. But Jack realized that neither Doc Frasier nor Sam really seemed to believe him. They did not say it directly, but he could see it in both of their faces. He really did wish he had a plausible explanation.
The constant lying around and doing nothing not only bored him, it slowly made him sick. Puffing, he sat on the edge of the bed and pushed aside the tray table with his food. They were constantly trying to make him eat and just the mere thought of it caused him to be sick. He carefully stood on his bare feet, and as a brief chill passed through him, he began to shake. 'They have not even left me shoes', he thought to himself, getting annoyed. Although Janet had expressly forbidden him to get up, he did think it exaggerated to ask for help every time he had to pee. Carefully, he examined his injured leg. The wound had already healed well, not as red as it was a few days ago, and it was hardly noticeable. The stitches can certainly come out soon, he thought to himself and stroked carefully over the seam.
Just as he moved a bit away from his bed, realizing he was still a bit shaky on his legs, the door opened and Doctor McKenzie made his entrance. Groaning, Jack rolled his eyes, this was one quack he definitely did not miss
"Colonel" The psychiatrist greeted him kindly.
Walking quickly towards Jack as he saw the man stagger menacingly, and reaching for his arm, he quickly got Jack back into a sitting position. Jack O'Neill responded annoyed to the caring nature of this hated man. Every time Colonel McKenzie showed up, trouble was in the air.
"What do you want?" Jack grunted, not dreaming of hiding his anger from him.
"I think you know why I'm here," he said confidently.
"I have nothing to say to you!" Jack mumbled as he lay down again, trying to hide his shiver from the man by turning his back provocatively on him.
Colonel McKenzie was unaffected by Jack's lack of cooperation. He pulled one of the uncomfortable visitor chairs to the bed, sat down, folded his hands, and began to speak.
"Doctor Frasier told me what happened."
"Oh, I bet she has," he murmured, more to himself.
"Colonel, we want to help you, but you also have to be ready to help."
"I do not need help, especially yours!" He grumbled, pulling the covers over his head a bit.
"If you ask me ..." the doctor began.
He was immediately interrupted by Jack O'Neill.
"No one is asking you here!" Jack yelled as he sat up, staring at him with eyes narrowed with anger.
"Colonel, I'm here, on behalf of General Hammond, Doctor Frasier, and Doctor Warner, they are very interested in my assessment of the matter. And Colonel, you know what consequences that will have for you so I would strongly advise you to cooperate."
"You would be glad if I did not corporate or if what they think is true, so that you can finally lock me away. That is what you are implying here!"
"Nobody wants to lock you up, Colonel, but I will be very honest with you, if you're not willing to cooperate, then ultimately I have no choice but to force you! You've tried to kill yourself although you insist you did not and you can only deny it so many times. You will not find anyone who will take the responsibility for it. You act as if nothing had happened, the simplest solution would be to train yourself and cooperate."
"For the last time, I did not try to kill myself!" Jack shouted, jumping up unexpectedly, threatening the psychiatrist. "I did not do that!" He said, this time with a little less emphasis.
Jack realized how upset he was and how unchecked he was again, trying to calm himself down.
"Sit down!" Dr. McKenzie demanded.
"I do not want to kill myself, why does no one believe me?" He asked quietly as his emotions slowly boiled down.
McKenzie tried to talk to him again after a while.
"Colonel, I can imagine how you feel ..." he began, immediately interrupted by his patient.
"You can imagine how I feel, you are full of crap!" he said in rage.
This sentence finally caused Jack's temper to overflow. It was like a bottle that had been shaken up and Jack could hardly contain himself. Once more, he was standing and was a threatening sight again before the doctor.
"Sit down!" He shouted, quite loud this time. "Colonel, I just wanted to say, I can understand it, suicide seems like a seemingly quick, easy solution in such a situation."
That was the last straw! Before Jack realized what he was saying words were tumbling out of his mouth faster than he could stop them.
"I never would have ended my life this way, I wanted to scoop a bullet in the head, that would be my favorite way of killing myself," he snapped, without thinking.
"You wanted to shoot yourself?" The psychiatrist asked.
"No!" He lied, realizing at that moment what he had actually said.
"You said you wanted to shoot yourself!"
"No, I have not," he said, rubbing his temples confusedly. He suddenly looked extremely nervous on the doctor.
"You said you wanted to shoot yourself," the doctor replied calmly.
"No, I said I'd shoot myself!" He shouted again.
"You said you wanted to shoot yourself, I'm sure, Colonel, and why are you screaming?"
"Then I expressed myself wrong!" He admitted and held his head with both hands
"Are you all right?" McKenzie asked, looking worried.
Jack O'Neill massaged his temples with both hands, answering him in a snotty tone.
"I would be much better, if you left me alone."
The man skipped that comment, knowing Jack O'Neill and his attitude toward him and his profession. After a short break he asked.
"Colonel, be honest, did you think of suicide after you received the diagnosis?"
The officer took his hands off his head, looked bitterly at his counterpart. McKenzie could see, his fists clenched, his expression betraying the doctor, the man in front of him struggling to control his anger.
"So, Colonel?" He asked again, not relenting.
"No, no, no," he shouted, noticing how shaky his voice suddenly sounded.
He did not look at the man, just stared at his hands, wishing he would finally leave him alone. He was tired, so tired.
"Have you ever thought of suicide before?" He asked suddenly, in a strangely calm tone. Jack O'Neill raised his head, staring at him.
"You know my file!" He stuttered.
"I want to hear it from you," he demanded.
Slowly it seemed to Jack that the whole thing got ugly. Just what exactly was this quack after? Was he really wanting Jack to commit suicide or just put him away for life?
"You dare turn this into a hanging rope for me! History has nothing to do with it, nothing at all! "He shouted indignantly, getting more and more restless.
Now he could hardly control his anger, clawing his fingers into the mattress.
"Colonel, you have been depressed before. After losing your son, you blamed yourself for his death, did you not? You tried to shoot yourself, but you did not manage to kill yourself. On your first mission to Abydos, you were ready for anything, you had no intention of returning, and had already accepted that your life was finished. Am I not right? "
Jack's face hardened. He had not expected that! He did not want to talk about all these things. That was past and had nothing to do with it!
"I think you're fragile and dangerous, have been from the beginning. As far as I am concerned Jack O'Neill you are nothing but a ticking time bomb!"
The doctor stopped and watched while his words melted into Jack, unaware of the rattle snake that was waiting to strike.
"When I joined the Stargate program, I objected to entrusting you with the leadership of a team, today I can say with a clear conscience that I was right, you've been acting recklessly all these years and what's worse, you have risked the lives of your team members recklessly. Its one thing to risk your own life with your suicide games, but endangering others is not fair, would you not agree, Colonel?"
Jack O'Neill stared at him furiously.
"What?" He yelled in horror.
Stunned, he looked at the man. He would never frivolously risk the lives of others. That was just not true!
"The next point: I read in your medical file, Doctor Frasier had to treat you because of a mysterious accident last year, just after you escaped from Baal's fortress."
"What?" Jack asked in shock.
"The accident, Colonel."
"There was nothing mysterious about that! I went off the road with my car. That was an accident you idiot!" he said to the man.
"You came off the road in your car and ricocheted into a tree, for no reason, there was no other vehicle involved, there were no witnesses, and it had not even rained. Even your blood samples were clean, no alcohol, no drugs, explain that to me, Colonel!" he demanded.
Slowly, Jack felt the light throbbing in his head spread into a sharp pain, continuously rubbing his temples.
"I think it was not an accident," he accused.
"I do not care what you believe, just think what you want, you quack!" He snarled angrily.
"No explanation, not even the slightest attempt, can I say that is a confession?" he teased
"No, do not turn my own words against me all the time," the officer cursed, giving him a sour look.
"Do not make it so hard for us, Colonel!" The doctor said softly, slowly losing his patience. "Have your social contacts decreased lately? Would you even describe yourself as lonely?" Came his next question directly, ignoring Jack's accusation.
Jack was speechless, suddenly paralyzed. His blood boiled, he could feel it, he tried to look calm on the outside, did not want to give the man the satisfaction he saw, how much he made these accusations. But his hands were shaking more and more and it took a lot of effort to hide it from the psychiatrist.
"Colonel, your silence only confirms my suspicions. You suffer from depression and hide seemingly not only since the diagnosis. This has been going much longer, right? You were there most of the time well, because you wanted no one to get closer to you, unless absolutely necessary, am I right?" McKenzie stood in front of him, confident.
Confident in himself and his diagnosis, making no secret of it to his patient. Jack had had enough of this pompous ass. What did the guy know about his life? Nothing! He only saw what he wanted to see.
"Leave me alone, I have nothing more to say!" He grumbled.
"Do you seriously believe that we can just leave it this way, not after all that has happened lately? However as stupid as it seems it would fit you. After all, your intelligence does not testify to any special intelligence, if you ask me! A suicide attempt in the infirmary? Even stupider, it is almost too much to believe!" He interjected, looking Jack provocatively in the eye.
At that moment, Jack had finally had enough. Before anyone could have foreseen it, Jack jumped up and grabbed the completely surprised doctor within seconds by the collar. He threw him with a skilful grip to the ground, and pressing against him so tight he could literally close his throat and Jack held him that position.
His anger seemed boundless, and his actions were more instinct which allowed him not to even think about what he was doing. Squeezing the doctor, he pushed the man further and further from the air. The psychiatrist panicked into the jet-black, looking into the shimmering eyes of the man holding his life in his hands. Flaying helplessly with his arms, and gasping for air he thought about his words. He had not expected this, was his last thought as darkness surrounded him!