Thanks so much for all the great reviews! I am going to try and alternate chapters with my stories so you don't have to wait so long between updates. Of course, the more reviews the faster I write (shameless, shameless plug!). You'll see today where I'm going - sort of - with this story. Please enjoy!
The brilliant sun – or star, she guessed, since they weren't in earth's solar system – blazed down on the planet, causing the surface to dry and crack. The only life appeared to be the few small, bleached trees and the odd lizard like creature that scurried past. She hoped there was nothing poisonous around.
She tried to lick her lips but her mouth was so dry there was no saliva with which to wet them. She stood up, again, but there was still nothing to see.
"Oh Sir", her voice cracked, just like the ground on which she stood. "What do I do? I can't leave you but – we'll die here without water." She collapsed onto the ground, next to the Colonel and checked him over again but nothing had changed. She had eventually reached over and closed his eyes, unable to bear looking at him the way he was.
She refused to acknowledge it to herself, but somewhere in the back of her mind she knew – she knew that he was gone. Oh, his body was still alive, he still breathed and his heart still beat, but he was no longer Jack O'Neill. He was just a shell.
She had tried to lift him, thinking she would walk until she at least found water. She'd managed it for almost an hour but then had collapsed. Without water and still half in shock, she'd been unable to keep going. She had then decided to leave him, to explore and return quickly. She'd only managed to get a few hundred yards away when she had panicked, sure he would die without her there to watch over him. She'd run back and thrown herself beside him, shaking with fear and anguish.
Maybe she should just sit here until both of them perished, she thought. Part of her rebelled, part of her knew that Jack would be angry at her for giving up. But did that matter now? He was – he couldn't say anything, he couldn't tell her they'd get home, that she had to believe. No, he was gone, and she no longer believed.
She closed her eyes then and laid her head on his chest. The faint sound of his heart and the steady, although shallow, rise of his chest gave her some comfort. She began to doze.
"Hey missy", a voice intruded on the pleasant dream – the dream where she sat beside Jack, both of them fishing in his pond. "You okay?"
She was able to ignore the voice, the sounds, until a hand touched her shoulder. She almost screamed, startled at the actual feel of a human hand. "Wha – " she croaked, now almost unable to speak.
"Hey, are you hurt?" the voice asked.
She managed to lift herself up and looked at the person who belonged to the voice. She saw a man – an old man with white hair and a grizzled, leathery face looking down at her, concern written all over his face.
"Uh –" she tried to speak again, but her mouth was just too dry.
"My God!" the man fell back, looking like he was about to fall over. "Hannah! Hannah, you've come back!" Tears began to run down his face and he reached forward, as if afraid she would disappear, and he gently touched her face. "I knew it", he cried. "I knew you weren't dead. Hannah!" he repeated.
Sam didn't know what was happening. This man thought she was this – Hannah – person. For now that was okay because she needed help. She needed to get Jack to a doctor, to help him and bring him back to her.
"Oh my goodness", he cried again. "Here." He turned and walked away.
It was only then that Sam realized he must have come in the wagon that was standing a few feet from where she sat. It was being pulled by two horses that were standing calmly, obviously used to waiting. The man returned a few seconds later carrying a canteen.
"Here, sip slowly", he instructed as he handed it to her, still looking as if he was in shock.
She forced herself to take small sips, knowing that it would all come back up if she gulped. Still, it was difficult. She wanted to tilt her head back and pour it down her throat. When she'd had enough to satisfy the initial craving she turned to the Colonel. She had to get some water down him. He was dehydrated, and she was pretty sure the wound on his back had started to become infected. She knew he already had a fever.
"Here Sir", she said softly. She carefully poured a few drops into his mouth, worried that she'd drown him if she went too fast. Thankfully, after a couple of seconds, she could see him swallow convulsively. At least his reflexes seemed okay – and he was aware enough to swallow. That was the first good sign she'd seen.
"He's alive?" the old man asked in surprise. He limped closer and carefully leaned over, touching the comatose man at his feet. "He looks in bad shape. Who is he Hannah?" he asked.
"His name's Jack – Jack O'Neill. And I'm afraid my name isn't Hannah – it's Sam, Samantha Carter."
He looked up at her, a frown on his face. She could tell he looked a little lost, a little confused. "Not - ? But you look just like her. You must be my Hannah."
"No, I'm sorry. I've never seen you before. My name really is Samantha." She turned back to Jack, giving him a few more drops of water. She really wished she had a cloth to wipe his face. He looked so pale, so – no Sam, don't think about that now. We'll get him to a doctor and everything will be fine.
"He needs a doctor", she told the old man. "Can you take us?"
"Ain't no doctor for fifty miles", he replied. "Wouldn't do you any good anyhow. Doc Baxter's worse than no doctor – good for nothing more than pluggin bullet holes and pullin' teeth. I'll take you back to my place. That's the best thing for him."
She nodded. At least they'd get Jack inside and in bed. She'd have to be the one to look after him then, if there was no doctor.
"Let's get him moved. He looks like a big man – may be a bit tough. I'm not as strong as I use to be."
"That's okay. I can probably lift him that far", she replied. Hell, she'd carried him for an hour, a few steps should be possible.
"You? You're a woman", he said, as if that was enough to prove she couldn't do it.
"Yes, and I'm strong. If you can just help me a bit I can put him over my shoulder – "After a few minutes of struggle – she couldn't believe how weak and shaky she felt – they managed to get the Colonel into the back of the wagon. It was only as she laid him down that she noticed his eyes were open again and that he was staring straight up, completely unaware of anything.
"What happened to him", the old man asked as he looked down at the man lying totally still.
"He – a head wound", she said. "I don't know how bad it is."
He shook his head. "Bad I'd say. I doubt he'll make it and if he does he'll probably be like this. I've seen it before. I don't think there's much left in there", he pointed to Jack's head.
She turned on him in fury. "Don't say that!" she cried. "He'll be fine. He's the Colonel – he comes through all the time. He's strong. A stupid little alien isn't going to destroy him and don't you dare say those thing!"
"Okay, okay!" he held his hands up, almost as if to protect himself. He didn't seem to catch her 'alien' reference – or maybe he thought she was just hysterical. "Could be he'll be fine and he's just stunned. I'm gonna drive back so you'd better get in."
She watched as the old man climbed up to the front and took the reins. She quickly hopped up in the back and sat beside the Colonel. The old man had given her his canteen and she continued to take small sips and then give more water to the Colonel.
"How long until we're there", she called up to the front.
"It'll take about an hour", he called back. "I was on my way to town when I saw you. Don't usually see people out here without a horse and I was curious."
"Thank you", she said, finally realizing that she'd been less than gracious. "I'm sorry – I didn't mean to yell at you back there. It's just – he's my friend and I'm kind of worried." Understatement of the year, she thought.
"It's okay", he laughed. "It was fine – it reminded me of my Sarah. She used to tear into me like that." His voice grew shaky. "I miss having someone tell me I'm a fool. My name's Henry, by the way, Henry Staples."
"Hi Henry and – thank you for saving us. We would have died out here." She was silent then but after a few minutes decided to ask. "Who was Sarah?" She needed to keep her mind off what was wrong with Jack.
"She was my wife", he replied softly. "We were married for almost twenty years. They were the best years of my life. I still miss her."
"What happened", she asked softly, realizing he wanted to talk.
"She died. Just woke up one day, saying she wasn't feeling good and the next day was dead. Hannah was inconsolable. She and her mother were so close. She was only thirteen. After that she was never the same. She'd always been a sweet and loving little girl but after her mother – she, she grew angry. I think she blamed me. After that she grew kind of wild and one day – she was only seventeen – she just up and ran away. I never saw her again."
Sam could feel the tears gather in her eyes. She didn't know if it was in sympathy for the old man, the remembrance of the loss of her own mother, or the fear over Jack, but she suddenly wanted to lay her head down and cry her heart out. "I'm sorry", she whispered.
"You look just like her – just like my Hannah. At least", he amended, "what she'd look like if she were older." He abruptly laughed. "If she were older! She's in her fifties now" he said. "She's older than I was when she ran away." He stopped talking then, seemingly caught up in his memories, although he appeared more rational than he had a few minutes before.
She continued to watch over the Colonel, but nothing had changed. She had agai tried to close his eyes once more, but after a few minutes they'd opened again. That seemed to be the only movement he would make, except for swallowing. She prayed it was a good sign even though she found his stare disconcerting.
They bumped over the rough ground – there wasn't even a road – for over an hour before she saw buildings in the distance. Actually, what she saw first weren't the buildings, but the trees. The house had been built next to a small stream and was surrounded by trees – they looked like weeping willows. It was charming, she realized, looking cool and peaceful. The house was white, a two story clapboard. There were other buildings, sheds and what looked like a barn, a couple of hundred feet from the house.
"It's pretty", she told Henry. "You must love it here."
"Yeah", he said softly. "It's my home, I built it – and where my Sarah is buried." He looked over his shoulder, a grin on his face. "I plan on being buried right beside her. We didn't have enough time together on down here but I plan to spend eternity with her! I'll probably drive her crazy!"
She smiled back at him, thinking again of her own mother. She wondered if her father had ever thought such a thing. Somehow, knowing now how much he'd loved her, she wouldn't be surprised.
He pulled the wagon up to the front of the house. "Charlie!" he shouted.
She started – wondering who Charlie was, and instinctively looked down at the Colonel. He hadn't moved, not even a small response.
"Charlie's my hired hand", Henry explained, without her having to ask. "He can help us take your friend inside. Then you can get cleaned up. There's some food around although you may have to help fix it. Charlie and I eat pretty basic stuff. Neither of us is much into cookin'."
Just then a man – he looked to be in his early forties – ran up. "What is it boss?" he asked, not seeing the people in the back of the wagon. "I thought you were going in to town?"
"I was but I happened upon these two lost without horses or a wagon and brought them back. The man is sick – can you take him up to the spare room?"
Charlie made a small noise and looked into the back of the wagon. He frowned at first, clearly suspicious, but soon his face cleared. "Okay. Hi, I'm Charlie", he said, walking to the back of the wagon and holding out his hand.
Sam shook it. "Hi. My name's Samantha and this is Jack. Can you help get him inside?"
"Sure." He lowered the rear of the wagon and gently lifted Jack up, holding him carefully. "What happened", he said as he walked towards the house.
"He uh – fell and hit his head really hard. He hasn't been conscious since then."
"Hmmm", was all he said, glancing down at the unconscious man. He glanced up and caught Henry's eyes. The old man shook his head and he nodded slightly in return. They both knew a dying man when they saw one.
"Here", Charlie laid the man down on top of the bed. "I'll get one of your nightshirts and some water", he said.
"Do you have any medicine and bandages", Sam asked. When the men looked surprised she explained. "He has a wound – on his back. I'm afraid it's infected."
"Yeah sure", Charlie answered. "I'll be right back."
"Thanks" Henry said as he watched his hired man leave the room. "So, what are you doing?"
"I'm trying to get these clothes off of him. I need to clean the wound and make sure there's nothing else wrong." She struggled to get the Colonel's vest and then shirt off. Henry offered to help, but she thought he was looking rather tired. "It's fine", she told him. "I'll manage."
"Had experience have you?" Henry's eye's twinkled.
She glanced up, startled, and immediately went to deny it. Something in the man's eyes, however, made her shut her mouth. Somehow she knew that she was allowed to continue because they thought she and the Colonel were together – probably even married. Although she was sure she'd just referred to him as 'friend.' Still, if this culture was anything like earth's of over a hundred years ago, she knew they'd frown on a single woman travelling with – or caring for – a man not her husband, father, son or brother.
Just then Charlie returned with the supplies and immediately came over to help her. With his assistance they soon had Jack stripped down to his boxers, which she decided to leave on.
"Sir", Charlie said to the old man, "why don't you go downstairs and rest. I'll handle things up here."
"Okay", Henry answered, sounding suddenly shaky and confused. He turned, without saying anymore, and left the room.
"This kind of thing is hard on him", Charlie explained.
"I know – I'm so sorry", Sam said. "We didn't mean to cause trouble."
Charlie grinned. "Oh, it's okay. He's tired, but this is the most fun he's had in a while. I just need to make sure he rests." He then frowned as he peered at the sick man on the bed. "I'll roll him over onto his side so you can take a look at that wound. I also brought a rubber sheet. We should put it under him so the bed doesn't get dirty."
She was extremely grateful for Charlie's help. Without him the whole thing would have been much more difficult, both physically and emotionally. Having him there kept her mind off of the worst-case scenario and made her concentrate on the immediate need to get the Colonel looked after.
The wound on his back wasn't as bad as she'd feared. It was a burn – something like a staff weapon burn – but not as deep or as bad. She cleaned it carefully and put on the salve that Charlie had given her. She then wrapped it in clean bandages and finally turned him on his back. With the other man's help she managed to get him into the nightshirt. She then noticed that again his eyes were open.
"Does he do that all the time?" the other man asked gently.
"Yes – I don't know why. It's – I don't know what it means."
Charlie didn't answer – he didn't know either. He just knew he'd never seen anything like it before. He was more than ever convinced that there was no hope for this man. He was pretty sure his brain had been damaged past repair. Looking at the woman, however, he knew he wasn't going to tell her that.
"Uh- you might want to consider -", he stopped and grimace, not sure how to continue.
She raised her eyebrows. " – consider?"
"Uh – some kind of – wrapping."
"Wrapping?" she said, confused.
"Well – he can't exactly use the ur – chamber pot – so you need to – you know, put something on him?"
It took her a second before she realized. Oh god – of course. The Colonel wasn't in control of anything and certainly wouldn't be able to control his bladder or - . She figured the only reason he hadn't – relieved himself - by this point is that they were both dehydrated. It wouldn't be long before it would become a problem. "I – see", she said. "You're right. Do you have -?"
"- rags", he replied. "I'll bring some clean rags. You'll have to wash them out afterward because we don't have that many."
She nodded, knowing that this was the least she could do. She waited as Charlie went back to get the rags. She sat by the bed and gently wiped Jack's forehead, removing some of the dust and grime of the past few hours. "Oh Jack, please, get better." She leaned down and gently kissed him on the cheek. "Please!"
Charlie returned and handed her the rags. "Uh – I'll just go downstairs and get some food together. You must be hungry."
"Thank you for all your help Charlie", she said calmly. "I appreciate it."
He nodded and then looked at her sharply. "Just make sure you don't hurt the old man", he warned. "There are those out there who want to – and I'll kill anyone who tries!"
She knew a real warning when she heard one. She too nodded. "Don't worry – he saved our lives. I would never hurt him."
"See that you don't." He gave her a brief smile and left.
She held the rags and contemplated what she had to do next. She knew that Charlie had escaped, not wanting to deal with the embarrassment of the next task. She should have just asked him if he would do it – but then changed her mind. No, she owed it to the Colonel to be the one to look after him.
She felt herself flush a bit as she thought about what she had to do but then scolded herself. This was Jack – the man who had saved her life on numerous occasions, her friend, the man she cared about. If this was all she had to contend with – well then, she'd just deal with it
She pulled the covers back and couldn't help but notice how well-toned and muscled he was. He kept himself in amazing shape and could have passed for someone much younger. "Okay Sam – stop procrastinating!" She finally reached down, pulled up the nightshire and carefully pulled the boxers down.
"There, not so bad", she told herself. She could do this – nothing to be embarrassed about. Just pretend she was Janet. She got the rags – avoiding looking directly at his – okay, so she was embarrassed, although she couldn't help but admire – SAM! Just get the damn diaper on!
She struggled but managed to get the long cloth under and around him and then tied. What she wouldn't have given for Velcro! Hopefully the cloth would offer some protection although she was glad for the sheet. She sighed. She might as well get used to this – at least until the Colonel got better.
She covered him back up and then decided she'd go down and see about something to eat. The Colonel's eyes were closed and she was beginning to think this pattern of non-blinking staring and then closing his eyes was simply his being awake and then asleep. Right now he must be sleeping – so she'd eat and worry about next steps once she was fed.
The old man was sitting in the kitchen, eating a plate of bacon and eggs. It smelled delicious and before she had a chance to even speak, a plate appeared before her. "Sit down and eat", Charlie told her. "Coffee?"
Oh thank God – a planet with coffee! "Yes please", she said. She took the steaming cup and noticed the cream on the table. Pouring a large amount into the cup she took a sip. "Heaven", she said. The men laughed.
"See what I mean", Henry said. "Just like Sarah."
The hired man smiled, although Sam could see the suspicion still in his eyes. She tried to convey that she really wasn't going to hurt the old man, but could understand Charlie's caution. She liked him all the more for it.
"How's your man?" Henry asked.
"Sleeping", she replied. "I'm hoping with some rest he'll get better. I'll take him up some food in a while."
Henry nodded, although his face was serious. "You know – he might not -"
"He will", she said confidently. "You'll see. Nothing keeps him down for long!"
She refused to be separated from the Colonel that night – in case he needed her. Charlie brought in a small trundle bed and she lay down on it, exhausted with the day's events, but knowing she would find it hard to sleep.
She thought about Daniel and Teal'c and General Hammond – but knew it was unlikely they'd find them. They'd been taken somewhere, through the Stargate, but unless they got the address from the aliens who had attacked them, there would be no way the SGC would find them. Nope – she figured they were pretty much on their own.
Now all she needed was for the Colonel to get better – and then they'd go and find the gate and get themselves home. Yeah – it should be simple, she told herself. She looked over at Jack and could see his eyes shining in the moonlight. They were open, staring – and dead. She put her head down and cried.