Consequences
Part 3
Daniel's knuckles turned white where he was unconsciously clutching at O'Neill's shirt. "Don't try to talk. You need to rest."
"Rest? With you blabbering over me?" He coughed harshly several times and shuddered trying to keep himself from yelping from the pain. Amazingly it wasn't too bad, which he realized was a good indication that it was, in fact, very bad. Live nerve endings hurt, dead or missing ones did not.
He didn't try to speak again for a minute or protest when Daniel began to fuss over him and wipe his mouth of the spittle from his cough. It was no surprise at all to see the cloth soaked with blood. Add bruised lungs to the list. Yes, he'd heard it.
After what seemed like excessive cleaning to O'Neill, Jacob helped Daniel to raise him up a bit and offered a sip of water. "Don't swallow, just swish and spit. Get the blood out first then I'll give you more to drink."
O'Neill nodded and did as he was told. He didn't realize how dry his mouth had become and getting rid the coppery taste of his own blood was almost a pleasant sensation. Unfortunately drinking while lying flat on one's back was not easily done and he coughed and sputtered when a few drops went down the wrong way. "Help me sit up."
"That would be unwise, O'Neill."
"So is drowning me. Against the wall, sit me up." His face was pale but he was still able to glare as well as ever.
Reluctantly Daniel nodded. It took all three of them to move him since most of his body was dead weight, but soon they had him propped up and more or less supporting himself against the wall. The movement caused him excruciating pain and Daniel produced a syringe of morphine from his vest pocket. At first O'Neill waved it away but then nodded his approval. "Maybe just half, huh? I'd like to actually be awake for a little while." After the drug was given he reached out with the one limb that was still working and requested the water. He took a long drought and addressed Jacob. "We're on the ground, am I right?"
"Yeah, we took a hit. We managed to set down pretty far from the base so I don't think we'll have company anytime soon. We do need to get out and camouflage the ship as much as possible in case a patrol swings by."
"Daniel, Teal'c, that's your cue. Go see what you can do."
The younger man bristled. "I'm not leaving you alone. You need help."
O'Neill sighed; Daniel was just so 'Daniel' sometimes. "You know, I appreciate the sentiment but I don't think there's much more you can do for me. However if those Jaffa spot us no one will be leaving here alive. Go help them."
Teal'c was already on his feet and leaned down to rest a hand on Daniel's shoulder. "We will return soon."
Collins and two of the Tok'ra were already outside assessing the damage to the ship and figuring out what cover they had available. As Daniel exited the craft Collins stopped what he was doing and caught his eye. He'd seen enough of O'Neill's condition to know what to expect. The two men stared at each other for only a second but it was enough to pass information between them. O'Neill? Bad. Alive? Yes, barely. His face paled another shade at the sight of the blood on Daniel's clothing; he knew it wasn't his.
Inside Jacob checked on all of the injured and was pleased to see none were worse for the abrupt landing. At least there was that. Khalil had actually managed to wake and verify the state of his host. He was himself injured as well and exhausted from the strain of providing total life support for the host body. It was doubtful he'd survive the trip home even if they were already on their way.
Jacob returned to O'Neill's side and sat with his back against the wall beside him with his knees drawn up and arms resting on them.
"I'm not gonna make it."
'You're a resilient guy. We'll get you home." His eyes were staring off into space.
"Jacob. Don't screw with me." O'Neill's voice was suddenly harsh and his eyes darkened. "I can't feel my legs." He glanced at the one foot that was lying awkwardly on its side due to his dislocated knee. "Hell, I can't feel more than half my body and I can barely move the little bit I *can* feel." He faltered for a moment then continued with an obvious catch in his voice, "I may be an irreverent ass most of the time but I'm not stupid. I just didn't think this would be my last mission."
Jacob stiffened slightly but didn't turn to his companion. He could hear the fear in the Colonel's voice and couldn't bear to see it as well. "You know those couple of times you called me 'Dad'? I wasn't offended. In some ways you and I are closer than I am with my own son."
"We're both military, been taught to think along the same lines."
"Maybe. But I do think highly of you, despite the differences we've had. Being in here with Selmac has taught me some things about people and families and relationships." He paused then added quietly "Sam's gonna take it really hard."
He would have chuckled if he could. "Sam? She's happy where she is. Didn't I tell you that?"
"She doesn't have a clue. For all those brains my daughter can be a bit dense."
Now he did chuckle and immediately regretted it as he coughed again and sputtered, making Jacob jump to pat him on the shoulder and wipe at his mouth with a cloth. "Thanks." The very idea of putting Carter in the same sentence with the word 'dense' was ridiculous.
"You know the SGC won't ever be the same." Jacob stifled a grin. "Quieter maybe, but not the same."
O'Neill realized this was coming uncomfortably close to a 'goodbye' speech and changed the subject. "What about your Tok'ra buddy? You said that guy is some bigwig back home, how's he doin'?"
Jacob accepted the change in the direction of their conversation. "Not well, I'm afraid. I don't think he'll make it. Too bad, he's been around almost as long as Selmac, it will be a great loss."
There was a short silence between them and O'Neill had to ask the question. "You're not gonna offer me the snake?"
Jacob shook his head. "I know where you stand. It's your right. I don't hold anything against you for it."
"He's awake?"
"Yeah, a few minutes ago."
"I'd like to meet him." Jacob shot him a questioning look. "See why it was so important for us to come out here in the first place. That's all."
It proved to be easier to move Khalil than O'Neill, so after a few words passed between them and a look over toward the Tau'ri, Jacob and another of the Tok'ra moved Khalil over to where he and Jack could speak.
"Colonel O'Neill, this is Khalil. The host is- was Tamar. He is so far gone he is already dead. The body is functioning but only at a bare minimum. He may not be able to talk much but he's agreed to accept your company while we work on finding a way out of this mess."
O'Neill nodded as Jacob left then looked down at the prone man beside him. He was filthy of course from the conditions in the prison but the much of the dirt on his face was streaked clean where his tears had washed the grime away. As their eyes met O'Neill saw he was trying even now to blink back tears.
"You're in a lot of pain. Sorry we didn't come sooner."
Khalil shook his head very slightly and spoke surprisingly without the tone of a symbiote. "It is not the physical pain. I am able to block that."
O'Neill was confused; he thought Jacob said the host was already dead. But why then was Khalil talking like his host? "Who am I talking to, Khalil or Tamar?"
"Tamar is no more. I have not been able to contact his mind for some time now. I speak as he does because it is my custom to do so." He faltered and a few tears escaped his eyes. "He has a wonderfully rich voice does he not?"
O'Neill nodded though it was hard to tell with the 'death rattle' that was there.
Khalil sighed deeply and closed his eyes. "I tried so hard to save him. So hard." He shook with emotion as he spoke. "But I can do no more. I am dying myself. " He blew out another breath. "He was a wonderful friend; what will his family think? They were assured he would have a long and fulfilling life as a Tok'ra. I promised them and now he is gone."
O'Neill was amazed to hear Khalil talk like this. It almost sounded like he loved his host. "But you still have his memories, right?" He tried not to think about his own impending fate and winced slightly. "What if you found another host?"
If there was any hint of an offer there Khalil missed it. He shook his head. "Of all the hosts I've had none compares to Tamar. He wasn't just intelligent and dedicated; he made me laugh. He knew how to have fun."
"Fun?"
"Yes, he could always make me laugh. He had an odd sense of humor but I couldn't help but laugh. I think I laughed more with him than with all of my previous hosts."
"So," O'Neill repeated himself, "if there *were* another available host?"
"It is always preferable to live. It would give me a chance to see his family and tell them how bravely he died, and how much he was loved."
O'Neill wondered to himself to a moment, 'love' wasn't a word he associated with the Tok'ra in any way; well maybe with Jolinar and Martouf. But this love between the snake and host? Khalil was talking about Tamar as if he were his son!
"How did Tamar become your host in the first place?"
"We worked together. I was with my previous host a long time; he was quite old when I met Tamar. When it was time Tamar requested to blend with me. We have only been together six years, but I have felt more alive during those years than ever before."
O'Neill grimaced at the pain as well as the current direction of his thinking. "What do you know about us? The humans from Earth?"
"You may have a host for me among them?"
He stuttered a bit. "Uh, that would depend on the qualifications."
"At this point they would be few."
Jacob had returned and overheard some of their conversation. "Jack, are you even for a minute-"
O'Neill shrugged at him wincing at the pain it caused in his arm. "Things change."
"Holy Hannah!"
Selmac was overjoyed but Jacob was still in shock. He never EVER thought Jack would do it again. Never! Selmac took over control and spoke. "You realize it may be too late even now, you are both so weak."
"Well, its not like either of us has an overwhelming number of choices here is it?"
Khalil looked at him suddenly comprehending what it was they were actually discussing. "O'Neill, I do not believe I could heal your injuries any more than I can help Tamar. It is taking all of my energy just to talk to you."
"That's not what I had in mind. I'm not asking you to fix me; in fact I don't want you to. You need a way home and I'm in a position to do that for you, maybe buy you some time."
He turned back to Jacob. "Look, I don't like having debts. What I did with Kanan was for my benefit and despite how badly it turned out-" He rolled his eyes upward. "I did get my life back, so I kinda owe you, the Tok'ra something. One thing though- when it's over I expect what's left to be returned to Earth. I'm not being buried on some back-ass water planet God knows where."
Khalil nodded trying to take in all the information he was being given so quickly. He had a million questions. This man had been a host before? Why did he not know of this, and what then of Kanan? Why would he offer himself but only for a short while? What happened when he was blended before? He wished he knew more of this Kanan, but they were barely acquainted, their paths had so rarely crossed.
Besides all of the questions Khalil had, it was a most odd proposition to deal with someone who honestly seemed to want nothing for himself. He found it quite sad and made his decision. "This arrangement is acceptable. I will try."
O'Neill nodded in reply. "Ask Daniel and Teal'c to come in here would you?"
They both knew something was up; they could see it in Jacob's face the moment they saw him.
"What! I thought after Kanan- Jack I was there. I saw what that did to you, what happened."
'Yeah, well I was there too, and yeah, it sucked. It's not the same situation this time; I'm not expecting anything except-" He stopped and glanced at Khalil, "that when it's over, it's over for good."
Daniel's face fell and he bit his lower lip. "You're giving up aren't you?"
The silence was more of an answer than O'Neill had intended and it struck home to all of them.
"I'm staying." Daniel folded his arms across his chest; his voice was not harsh or demanding, just matter-of-fact.
Teal'c glanced at the young man and struck a similar pose. "As will I."
O'Neill wasn't up for an audience but he was too tired to care. "Fine."
Jacob let Daniel and Teal'c move the Colonel to a side-lying position facing Khalil while he helped the Tok'ra turn to face his soon–to-be new host.
Just as their eyes met mere inches away from each other O'Neill grimaced. He could suddenly recall the blending with Kanan and the taste of its slime in his mouth. "You guys have really *got* to come up with a better way of doing this."
"Don't worry, I'm not going to kiss you."
That thought was worse than the slime thing.
"Just yawn or something."
"Or *something*? How many times have you done this?"
Khalil was getting a touch impatient, he'd already severed most of his connection with Tamar and was eager to complete the procedure. With one last supreme effort he forced the hosts hand to move and grasped O'Neill's broken arm.
"Ow!"
That was all the opportunity that was needed; Khalil jumped from Tamar into O'Neill's mouth in a flash.
O'Neill reacted by coughing and sputtering as was expected but then suddenly grabbed his head with his left hand. "Oh God! My head!" He stifled several gasps of pain and rolled onto his back. "Shit! Jacob!"
His eyes opened and he scanned the room for the elder Tok'ra. After another wave of excruciating pain he was able to talk. "Aren't I supposed to pass out or something?"
Selmac answered. "Try to relax, Khalil is very weak; perhaps he is unable to overcome your reflex to resist."
"I swear, I'm, not resisting! Oh God, my head's gonna explode!" With that he jerked to his side and began to thrash. When he rolled back the staff blast wound was bleeding bright red again and Daniel rushed to his side.
Selmac tossed a package of gauze dressings to Daniel and called Teal'c over. "Hold him."
Teal'c held O'Neill's body still and Selmac cradled his head in his hands as Daniel worked. The Colonel was still awake and in obvious pain but exhaustion was getting the better of him; at least he was a little more calm. Selmac gently wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead. "I believe this blending will fail."
Daniel frowned and looked at his friend. "So that's it?" Neither Selmac nor Teal'c spoke.
After a bow of his head Jacob returned. "I know it's hard to accept but I doubt if Khalil is able to do anything at all; in fact it looks like he's made matters worse. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have let them do it."
Suddenly O'Neill stiffened his whole body and jerked his head back then went completely limp and unconscious.
Inside his head O'Neill heard a soft voice. 'Be calm. I am here. Rest now.' The voice was strained but oddly reassuring. He was too tired to fight it anyway and fell into a deep sleep.
"Is he dead?" Daniel said with a sob at the sight of the completely still figure. Jacob slid his fingers down and felt for a pulse. "Alive, but not by much. He's probably in a coma; too much damage to his brain."
Jacob decided their best bet would be to head for his still hidden cargo ship. He estimated the distance at several miles but the forest was less dense here and he was sure they could do it in less than a day even with the injured slowing them down. Selmac debated the issue of moving O'Neill with the other Tok'ra and decided they would have to do it, waiting would probably only bring death anyway. A makeshift stretcher was put together and they set off with Teal'c and one of the Tok'ra carrying O'Neill and Daniel walking along beside them observing for any change in his condition.
Almost a full day later they found the ship where they'd left it. Selmac had one of the Tok'ra launch the glider just ahead of their departure as both a scout and distraction in the event they were spotted. Under the cover of darkness they made their escape.
The first stop would be the Tok'ra base and hopefully medical help for both O'Neill and Khalil. Unfortunately the Tok'ra physicians found no evidence of a blending, only the presence of a symbiote body. Since it seemed O'Neill wasn't healing any faster than he would on his own, which was barely at all, they determined Khalil was dead. Even the use of a healing device only stabilized O'Neill and had no effect on the symbiote. All they did was prolong the inevitable. Given O'Neill's grave injuries they decided it would kill him to remove the symbiote so they left it where it was to decompose. All they could do was return O'Neill to the Tau'ri for them to care for him until he died.
A few days later at the SGC…
Carter walked the long halls of the SGC swinging her bag and actually whistling, she had a great time while she was away. Tony's family turned out to be really quite nice, though not impressed by her status in the Air Force or anything else that even hinted that she had a brain. They *were* impressed that Tony had finally found himself a 'looker', and called her 'cutie' and 'babe' more times than she could count. She had an odd feeling of their idea of a perfect wife was the 'barefoot and pregnant' thing. Still, they were nice and she liked them.
Her first clue that something might not be right was the look on Daniel's face when she almost ran into him. It wasn't just that he didn't seem glad to see her; he looked like he hadn't slept in a week.
"Daniel, what is it?"
"Sam, we- we had a mission while you were gone. You need to go talk to Hammond."
Her eyes searched his for a clue. "Where's Colonel O'Neill?"
When Daniel's eyes fell her feet were set in motion on their own. She literally stormed into Hammond's office, still carrying her bag and briefcase.
"Major?" Hammond tried to keep his voice even, he knew she'd just gotten back and had no idea of recent events. Without waiting for her to start questioning him, he gestured to the chair. "Close the door. Please."
She grimaced. This was going to be bad.
The grimace turned to shock as the General related all he knew of the past several days. By the time he was done she was as pale as the papers littering his desk.
It was an effort to go by her lab first but she did, though only to drop off her things. Something was bothering her perhaps even more than what Hammond had said, it was the *way* he said it. It had only been a few days and he certainly should have some faith in O'Neill's resiliency. She wondered if Hammond had left something out. The whole thing sounded like a nightmare. Rescue mission gone bad. O'Neill was hurt and somehow, unbelievably, became a host. Said symbiote dies, leaving said Colonel in worse shape than before. So why was Hammond acting like he'd never come back? Just how hurt was he?
The first thing she sensed when she walked in the room was the presence of a Goa'uld. She had to shake herself to remember it was just the Naquadah in his blood, not a live symbiote. He didn't look all that bad considering, but then hospital sheets can cover a multitude of injuries. She did note the cast on his right arm and the way his pasty coloring made him almost disappear into the sheets. Not very much like the man she knew.
She stood at the beside a long time just looking down at him and trying to understand how things could have gotten so messed up in such a short time. For Christ sakes she was only gone two weeks! She tried to ignore a growing niggling thought in the back of her mind that maybe, just maybe this all wouldn't have happened if she'd been there, with her team, with her CO.
She jumped when a gentle hand touched her shoulder.
"Sam, honey. I didn't know you were back. Why don't you sit down?"
Carter turned into the sound of the voice and was met with the ever-present soft smile of her friend. Too late she blinked and a tear broke loose from her eye and she briskly wiped it away. "Janet, how did this happen? I mean General Hammond has told me all the details but this- "She gestured to the bed "How *could* this have happened?"
"You probably know more than I do right now; all my information is related to his current physical condition, not how he got that way."
"So he was blended again?"
"Yes, apparently something went wrong at the very beginning. Your father was there, did the General tell you that?"
Carter shook her head. If he did it was one of those pieces of information that gets lost when you're overwhelmed by too much input at one time.
"Well he was. He said there was nothing they could do, that sometimes when symbiote and host are both ill or stressed, blendings fail."
"Yeah, it was something Selmac said before she blended with my Dad, she told him it may not work because of them both being so weak."
"Right. He said this was explained to the Colonel. He went into this with a full understanding of the possible consequences."
Carter looked down suddenly to hide a sudden rush of emotion. She spoke quietly, "I'd really like to know *why* he did it. After what happened before I just can't believe he'd do it again to save himself. He barely agreed to the blending with Kanan and after how that turned out-" She crossed her arms in front of her chest and turned away, suddenly feeling the guilt for her part in the Colonel having to go through all he did.
"I don't know, Jacob wasn't very specific about that, he only said both of them were very badly injured." She paused the said, "Sam, you should know this will be over soon. You can spend as much time with him as you like."
"What do you mean? He's stable isn't he?"
Frasier realized Hammond hadn't broken the really bad news; as usual it was left up to her. "Stable, yes, for a short time. They used a healing device on him to see if it could help the symbiote but it was too late, all they managed to do was temporarily stabilize the Colonel. He is still gravely ill and getting worse. The symbiote is still within him, Jacob said it would probably kill him straight away if they tried to remove it. Problem is, now it's decomposing and flooding his system with toxins that he can't handle right now considering his other injuries. It will soon shut him down completely. Even if it weren't there he'd die anyway." Her head dropped. "I'm sorry, Sam, there's nothing I can do."
Carter took two steps back and when her knees hit the edge of a chair she immediately dropped to the seat. "He can't-"
Frasier rushed to her and hugged the now heaving shoulders. "Shhh. I know."
Sam sat by the bed listening to the almost musical soft beeping of the machines and watching the only movement, a slight rise and fall of the sheet every time the man before her took a shallow breath. Somewhere between nodding off and being wide awake with anticipation every time one of the machines changed it's rhythm she began to think again about her life and what she'd been missing. This time she missed out on something big. Add to that the guilt for not being there and you had the makings of a really, really deep regret.
She was so tired of this re-evaluation of her priorities she was doing lately yet she couldn't help but let her mind wander here in this sterile little room with no projects or equations to occupy her mind. It was just after 1 AM when she realized she'd forgotten her date with Tony. She reprimanded herself for being so selfish; she should have cancelled when she realized she wouldn't be leaving the SGC that night.
That thought struck her oddly. In fact she didn't know just when she'd *be* leaving. She glanced around the room and smiled at the people who'd joined her late night vigil. Daniel was asleep with his head resting on the foot of the bed and Teal'c, though she knew it wasn't Kel-no-reem, was seated in a cross-legged position with his back against the wall, breathing slowly and deeply. Even Janet was still there tonight working late since Cassie was at a sleepover with friends.
God, she loved these people. She and Tony had discussed this very thing.
She'd already recognized she needed to get back to some of her projects on hold in her lab and that she wasn't exactly being much of a 'friend' to her friends and needed to do something about it. Tony noticed she'd seemed a bit melancholy one afternoon and they'd had a long discussion about it. He wondered when she was going to start missing her friends and 'wimp' out on him. She was surprised to find he really didn't have a problem with easing off just a little. He was retired out of the military and only worked part-time now but it did require him to travel, something he'd been putting off since being with her. All they needed was a little coordination and she should be able to schedule time for work and her friends at the SGC and still see him on a regular basis when he was in town.
Little did she know there was a crisis brewing and she'd need to set that plan in motion immediately. She let her eyes follow the lines of the sheet and stopped to gaze at the face of her CO. She felt a pinch in her heart. What had she been doing while he was infiltrating a Goa'uld base and getting himself nearly killed?
Was it eating barbecue or was it the afternoon they went to the pool? She rubbed a hand over her face. Dammit. She should have been there for him.
She shook herself internally, not for him, for the *team*. That thought caused another surge of guilt.
Had she even considered Daniel or Teal'c might have been hurt too? She glanced back at them. They certainly looked healthy enough but she couldn't be certain. The second part of her guilt was that even now her foremost thought had been of the Colonel, like she was still tied to him in some way. Hadn't they decided to put that all behind them? So why was it bothering her now? He was a good friend and her CO and he was dying, so it was normal for her thoughts to dwell on him, right?
Her shoulders slumped. Somehow she couldn't quite answer that question. Suddenly the nice, neat little package she'd wrapped her life up in was turned inside out. She put her head down on the side of the bed and let her tears flow silently. Whether it was due to guilt or the stress of the day it didn't matter. Suddenly she missed Tony very much.
O'Neill made it through that night and the next and the next. The members of SG-1 settled into a routine, Frasier and her nurses herded everyone out in the mornings to bathe and do other personal care for the Colonel, Teal'c returned in the afternoon and Daniel in the evenings. Sam would stop by early just to check in then come back while Daniel was there, though not every night; when she did she'd stay quite late, more than once falling asleep with her head on the bed.
Several days later Frasier was in General Hammond's office with a frown on her face. "Doctor I would never presume to tell you how to do your job but it is clear from these reports that what we thought would be over quickly could become quite drawn out."
"Sir! This is Colonel O'Neill we are talking about! Just because he hasn't died yet-"
"And he has stabilized in his current state. You said yourself there was so much brain damage from the skull fracture and the symbiote he may never come out of the coma. We need to consider long-term care, that's all I'm saying. Petersen Hospital would be well equipped to handle him. And no, I don't want to see this happen either; I just can't commit the resources of this facility to something that can and should be handled in another way. You've sent many patients there before; why are you so against this?"
She didn't have an answer for him. Something was bothering her about O'Neill and the whole situation involving him. Part of her just couldn't give up on a good man but her gut told her she was missing something important. "Okay, yes, we don't know how long he may hold out; but for now he does still have the remnants of a symbiote within him. I insist he stay here until it is fully dissolved. All we'd need is for some yahoo-intern to decide to do a follow up CT scan and see it."
"Granted." Hammond was so glad this encounter was over. "I'm not in a rush to send him off, but it will be better for everyone to get back to business. She nodded. Of course he was talking about SG-1 who'd been on stand down all this time. It was Hammond's intention to keep them there as long as O'Neill was on the base; he knew they'd never be able to keep their minds on a mission if he gave them one.
Grateful for the reprieve, Frasier made a beeline to the infirmary to check on her patient. Sometimes it was therapeutic to her to go through the simple tasks of bedside care and she often assisted her nurses even with the 'little' things.
This morning she checked O'Neill's vital signs and dutifully entered them into his chart supposedly to be reviewed by herself at a later time. When one of the nurses came in with a box of dressing change materials she decided to stay and help with that as well. The staff blast wound had healed minimally, it was so deep it should have required surgery and now given the circumstances she was reconsidering it. If he was going to be around a while she'd make damn sure she'd do what she could to help even a little piece of him improve.
When she removed the dressing she got a shock. She had to double check to make sure this was the right spot. The skin beneath the bandage was pink and healthy; there wasn't even a scar. She only had to think about it for a minute and ordered a STAT ultrasound.
She knew the ultrasound was far less accurate than either the CT or MRI but it was a lot faster than those other more involved tests. Besides, she could do it herself and not wait for a technician to get some preliminary results.
Her eye caught something odd almost immediately, the symbiote had been slowly decreasing in size but in the image before her it looked like there were some tendrils in parts of his brain where they hadn't been before. Perhaps it was just the symbiote body breaking up as it was being absorbed. Suddenly she stopped and stared hard at the scanner. She saw something she would never have seen on one of the other tests- movement.
She quickly ordered a full round of blood tests and an MRI. She didn't leave his side until he was moved into the room containing the magnetic imager and even then sat watching him from the observation area, twiddling a pen in her fingers with nervous energy.
While waiting for the results to come in she lowered her head into her hands and closed her eyes for a moment. Could it possibly be what she suspected?
She felt rather than heard someone enter the room and sit quietly beside her. Carter's voice was only a whisper. "I've been looking all over for you, they said something happened a little while ago. Is he- is it over?"
Her voice was barely audible as she spoke the last few words. Frasier suddenly realized maybe she should be telling at least certain people what was going on- even if she wasn't sure just yet. She raised her head and smiled at the woman beside her. "No, honey. He's not worse. I'm not sure I'd call it better exactly."
Carter shook her head, "What do you mean?"
Frasier took her hands and spoke slowly and deliberately. "The symbiote is not dead."
"It has to be. They said-"
"I know what they said, but maybe it was in some kind of hibernation since it was too weak to do anything. And-" She looked the Major in the eyes, "I think it's trying to complete the blending."
Carter didn't know if she should be horrified or thrilled. "Does General Hammond know?"
"Nobody but us." The technician signaled the MRI was complete and Frasier stood. "I'm gonna look over those results then call the General. I'm pretty certain what it will show. You can stay if you like, they'll have him back in his room in a minute."
Sam nodded still in shock then gazed through the glass at the body being wheeled out of the room. When he was back in the infirmary bed and settled she did as Janet suggested and went to sit with him. She tried to tell if there was any difference than what she felt before of the Naquadah in his blood, but there seemed to be no change.
Inside the still body O'Neill was awake. He had been off and on for more than a day now. At first he was disturbed to realize he wasn't alone. He remembered Kanan vividly and this feeling was so similar it frightened him that it might be happening again. The only difference was that Kanan always seemed to keep a certain amount of distance between the two of them, Khalil did not; which in itself was a disconcerting feeling.
When he first woke he felt as though he was a small child being rocked awake by his mother. Khalil spoke to him very gently and quietly, knowing how startling it can be to hear a voice inside one's own head. 'You are safe. You were injured badly but now you are healing. It will be some time before you will wake enough to open your eyes but it is all right, your friends are caring for you.'
O'Neill slowly remembered what happened. 'Khalil?'
'Yes.'
'How long?'
'Many weeks.'
That response forced O'Neill to cringe. 'It wasn't supposed to be this way. That wasn't our deal.'
'I know.'
With the unexpected openness of the symbiotes mind O'Neill knew instantly what Khalil was feeling; remorse for subjecting this human to something he knew he did not really want, and shame for giving in to the desperation to save himself.
'The blending almost failed. The damage to your spinal column caused a loss of cerebral spinal fluid, which I require to live. That is why it was so painful at first; I was unaware of that injury. I know you did not want any 'repairs' but I was forced to accomplish that one or die immediately. It was the only injury from which you had no hope of recovery and I knew if I repaired it you would survive, though you would not be whole as you once were. That was also not our 'deal.' Afterward I was so weakened I was near death; I put myself into an extended state of dormancy in which to heal myself first. Then when I was able I began to work on you. Forgive me, but I could not leave you in this condition. After what you have done for me. As you say, I owed you.'
This was a lot of information to process. O'Neill expected to be dead, as in 'dead' from his injuries, but instead he was- where? In the SGC and apparently, under the care of Frasier and her staff.
'Don't think I don't appreciate this but-'
'When you are healed I will leave.'
The idea of going back to work at the SGC was not entirely pleasant. Who knew what changes there had been? How long was he gone anyway? 'Many weeks' could mean anything. Was SG-1 even a team anymore? He felt a sudden wave of sorrow when he remembered where Carter was during the rescue mission. Maybe there wasn't any reason for him to go back anymore.
O'Neill stopped himself and thought about it. For the first time he considered what it might be like to be someone, something different. Someone who could make more of a difference against the Goa'uld without the constraints of his obligations back home. If he had a family, or even just someone to go home to, it might be different, still, it was a snake and a deal's a deal.
O'Neill felt the sadness of the symbiote and spoke to him. 'You've got to realize I've been just me for a long time, I'm used to saying what I think and I'm used to being pretty straightforward.' He paused for a long time. 'I do understand the potential advantages.'
He suddenly sensed a ray of hope in the symbiote. 'Are many of you so easy to read?'
Khalil relaxed a bit. 'No, I don't think even Selmac is as open as I am. It is something that has worked well for me, if it upsets you I can increase the barrier between us.'
'No, don't. I just need to get used to it. Why do you do it?'
'I owe my life to you. Besides it would be so much more pleasant if we were friends as well as co-inhabitants.'
A little flag of mistrust went up in O'Neill's mind. 'Honey and vinegar.'
Khalil paused a moment to glean additional information from O'Neill's mind. 'Yes, perhaps.'
'So you're not really that different, not even from the Goa'uld.'
O'Neill felt the hurt hit Khalil like a knife and instantly regretted his statement. 'Sorry, it just seems…'
'I know. I am what I am. A parasite. But I can choose to not be that parasitical today. If the wall stays down there can be a true symbiosis with both partners reaping the rewards.'
O'Neill was suddenly inundated with images and feelings of Khalil and his last host Tamar. He was awe-struck, they were almost one being they were so close and cared for each other so much. When they switched control of the body there was almost no outward sign of it the transition was so smooth, and Khalil rarely ever spoke with the timbre of a symbiote, preferring the sound of the host's voice to his own.
'Be aware there are dark places within me, I will not hide these if you choose to look there.'
'I'm not all hearts and flowers myself. I guess its fair you should know what you've gotten yourself into.'
Khalil noticed the pun and wondered how intentional it had been. In an instant he knew it was and smiled; humor, he loved it; could it be he'd found another human with a penchant for it?
O'Neill felt Khalil moving closer to him and forced himself to not react. He let his mind momentarily drift across his past; fleeting images of growing up and joining the Air Force; the first time he flew a plane, his marriage to Sarah and the birth of Charlie and all the good times they'd had before the military took it's toll on him. The images degraded to the torture at the hands of Baal first then back to the prison in Iraq and the numerous Black Ops he'd been involved in. Finally he recalled Charlie and the mixture of sadness and elation he felt whenever he thought about him. He didn't dwell on any one thing for long.
Khalil shrank back from the horrors this human had lived through. The feelings of Charlie were so extreme, such a mixture of good times and bad. He silently requested to see more of the good. O'Neill complied with many memories of baseball and hockey games, cuddling on the couch and watching TV. Then there were the early years of his marriage to Sarah when they were still giddy in love with each other. There was something more in this area of O'Neill's heart, much more subtle yet just as intense, Khalil recognized the face of Jacob's daughter.
'Don't go there.' O'Neill warned.
'Why? You love her.'
'I can't.' The regulations and all the possible consequences flooded his mind momentarily making Khalil pull back again.
'Duty before self? You are much more noble than you believe. I will-' He paused, 'leave it, in the room as you wish.'
'Actually, no I'm not.' The conversation he'd had with Carter regarding Tony flashed through his mind. 'I'm not sure I want to go back and face that.'
An eyebrow on O'Neill's face twitched in response to Khalil. He knew this could be a defining moment in O'Neill's decision to remain together with him. Still the man deserved to know. 'Are you certain?'
'What? That I'm not keen on the idea of torturing myself daily by working with someone whom I care about but who does not return those feelings?' He figured he might as well lay it all on the line, Khalil knew it anyway.
'Are we talking about the same woman?'
'What kind of stupid question-'
'This one?'
In the infirmary the body in the bed was still deep in a coma, but suddenly his eyelids fluttered and for just a split second he opened his eyes. And looked straight at Carter.
Part 3
Daniel's knuckles turned white where he was unconsciously clutching at O'Neill's shirt. "Don't try to talk. You need to rest."
"Rest? With you blabbering over me?" He coughed harshly several times and shuddered trying to keep himself from yelping from the pain. Amazingly it wasn't too bad, which he realized was a good indication that it was, in fact, very bad. Live nerve endings hurt, dead or missing ones did not.
He didn't try to speak again for a minute or protest when Daniel began to fuss over him and wipe his mouth of the spittle from his cough. It was no surprise at all to see the cloth soaked with blood. Add bruised lungs to the list. Yes, he'd heard it.
After what seemed like excessive cleaning to O'Neill, Jacob helped Daniel to raise him up a bit and offered a sip of water. "Don't swallow, just swish and spit. Get the blood out first then I'll give you more to drink."
O'Neill nodded and did as he was told. He didn't realize how dry his mouth had become and getting rid the coppery taste of his own blood was almost a pleasant sensation. Unfortunately drinking while lying flat on one's back was not easily done and he coughed and sputtered when a few drops went down the wrong way. "Help me sit up."
"That would be unwise, O'Neill."
"So is drowning me. Against the wall, sit me up." His face was pale but he was still able to glare as well as ever.
Reluctantly Daniel nodded. It took all three of them to move him since most of his body was dead weight, but soon they had him propped up and more or less supporting himself against the wall. The movement caused him excruciating pain and Daniel produced a syringe of morphine from his vest pocket. At first O'Neill waved it away but then nodded his approval. "Maybe just half, huh? I'd like to actually be awake for a little while." After the drug was given he reached out with the one limb that was still working and requested the water. He took a long drought and addressed Jacob. "We're on the ground, am I right?"
"Yeah, we took a hit. We managed to set down pretty far from the base so I don't think we'll have company anytime soon. We do need to get out and camouflage the ship as much as possible in case a patrol swings by."
"Daniel, Teal'c, that's your cue. Go see what you can do."
The younger man bristled. "I'm not leaving you alone. You need help."
O'Neill sighed; Daniel was just so 'Daniel' sometimes. "You know, I appreciate the sentiment but I don't think there's much more you can do for me. However if those Jaffa spot us no one will be leaving here alive. Go help them."
Teal'c was already on his feet and leaned down to rest a hand on Daniel's shoulder. "We will return soon."
Collins and two of the Tok'ra were already outside assessing the damage to the ship and figuring out what cover they had available. As Daniel exited the craft Collins stopped what he was doing and caught his eye. He'd seen enough of O'Neill's condition to know what to expect. The two men stared at each other for only a second but it was enough to pass information between them. O'Neill? Bad. Alive? Yes, barely. His face paled another shade at the sight of the blood on Daniel's clothing; he knew it wasn't his.
Inside Jacob checked on all of the injured and was pleased to see none were worse for the abrupt landing. At least there was that. Khalil had actually managed to wake and verify the state of his host. He was himself injured as well and exhausted from the strain of providing total life support for the host body. It was doubtful he'd survive the trip home even if they were already on their way.
Jacob returned to O'Neill's side and sat with his back against the wall beside him with his knees drawn up and arms resting on them.
"I'm not gonna make it."
'You're a resilient guy. We'll get you home." His eyes were staring off into space.
"Jacob. Don't screw with me." O'Neill's voice was suddenly harsh and his eyes darkened. "I can't feel my legs." He glanced at the one foot that was lying awkwardly on its side due to his dislocated knee. "Hell, I can't feel more than half my body and I can barely move the little bit I *can* feel." He faltered for a moment then continued with an obvious catch in his voice, "I may be an irreverent ass most of the time but I'm not stupid. I just didn't think this would be my last mission."
Jacob stiffened slightly but didn't turn to his companion. He could hear the fear in the Colonel's voice and couldn't bear to see it as well. "You know those couple of times you called me 'Dad'? I wasn't offended. In some ways you and I are closer than I am with my own son."
"We're both military, been taught to think along the same lines."
"Maybe. But I do think highly of you, despite the differences we've had. Being in here with Selmac has taught me some things about people and families and relationships." He paused then added quietly "Sam's gonna take it really hard."
He would have chuckled if he could. "Sam? She's happy where she is. Didn't I tell you that?"
"She doesn't have a clue. For all those brains my daughter can be a bit dense."
Now he did chuckle and immediately regretted it as he coughed again and sputtered, making Jacob jump to pat him on the shoulder and wipe at his mouth with a cloth. "Thanks." The very idea of putting Carter in the same sentence with the word 'dense' was ridiculous.
"You know the SGC won't ever be the same." Jacob stifled a grin. "Quieter maybe, but not the same."
O'Neill realized this was coming uncomfortably close to a 'goodbye' speech and changed the subject. "What about your Tok'ra buddy? You said that guy is some bigwig back home, how's he doin'?"
Jacob accepted the change in the direction of their conversation. "Not well, I'm afraid. I don't think he'll make it. Too bad, he's been around almost as long as Selmac, it will be a great loss."
There was a short silence between them and O'Neill had to ask the question. "You're not gonna offer me the snake?"
Jacob shook his head. "I know where you stand. It's your right. I don't hold anything against you for it."
"He's awake?"
"Yeah, a few minutes ago."
"I'd like to meet him." Jacob shot him a questioning look. "See why it was so important for us to come out here in the first place. That's all."
It proved to be easier to move Khalil than O'Neill, so after a few words passed between them and a look over toward the Tau'ri, Jacob and another of the Tok'ra moved Khalil over to where he and Jack could speak.
"Colonel O'Neill, this is Khalil. The host is- was Tamar. He is so far gone he is already dead. The body is functioning but only at a bare minimum. He may not be able to talk much but he's agreed to accept your company while we work on finding a way out of this mess."
O'Neill nodded as Jacob left then looked down at the prone man beside him. He was filthy of course from the conditions in the prison but the much of the dirt on his face was streaked clean where his tears had washed the grime away. As their eyes met O'Neill saw he was trying even now to blink back tears.
"You're in a lot of pain. Sorry we didn't come sooner."
Khalil shook his head very slightly and spoke surprisingly without the tone of a symbiote. "It is not the physical pain. I am able to block that."
O'Neill was confused; he thought Jacob said the host was already dead. But why then was Khalil talking like his host? "Who am I talking to, Khalil or Tamar?"
"Tamar is no more. I have not been able to contact his mind for some time now. I speak as he does because it is my custom to do so." He faltered and a few tears escaped his eyes. "He has a wonderfully rich voice does he not?"
O'Neill nodded though it was hard to tell with the 'death rattle' that was there.
Khalil sighed deeply and closed his eyes. "I tried so hard to save him. So hard." He shook with emotion as he spoke. "But I can do no more. I am dying myself. " He blew out another breath. "He was a wonderful friend; what will his family think? They were assured he would have a long and fulfilling life as a Tok'ra. I promised them and now he is gone."
O'Neill was amazed to hear Khalil talk like this. It almost sounded like he loved his host. "But you still have his memories, right?" He tried not to think about his own impending fate and winced slightly. "What if you found another host?"
If there was any hint of an offer there Khalil missed it. He shook his head. "Of all the hosts I've had none compares to Tamar. He wasn't just intelligent and dedicated; he made me laugh. He knew how to have fun."
"Fun?"
"Yes, he could always make me laugh. He had an odd sense of humor but I couldn't help but laugh. I think I laughed more with him than with all of my previous hosts."
"So," O'Neill repeated himself, "if there *were* another available host?"
"It is always preferable to live. It would give me a chance to see his family and tell them how bravely he died, and how much he was loved."
O'Neill wondered to himself to a moment, 'love' wasn't a word he associated with the Tok'ra in any way; well maybe with Jolinar and Martouf. But this love between the snake and host? Khalil was talking about Tamar as if he were his son!
"How did Tamar become your host in the first place?"
"We worked together. I was with my previous host a long time; he was quite old when I met Tamar. When it was time Tamar requested to blend with me. We have only been together six years, but I have felt more alive during those years than ever before."
O'Neill grimaced at the pain as well as the current direction of his thinking. "What do you know about us? The humans from Earth?"
"You may have a host for me among them?"
He stuttered a bit. "Uh, that would depend on the qualifications."
"At this point they would be few."
Jacob had returned and overheard some of their conversation. "Jack, are you even for a minute-"
O'Neill shrugged at him wincing at the pain it caused in his arm. "Things change."
"Holy Hannah!"
Selmac was overjoyed but Jacob was still in shock. He never EVER thought Jack would do it again. Never! Selmac took over control and spoke. "You realize it may be too late even now, you are both so weak."
"Well, its not like either of us has an overwhelming number of choices here is it?"
Khalil looked at him suddenly comprehending what it was they were actually discussing. "O'Neill, I do not believe I could heal your injuries any more than I can help Tamar. It is taking all of my energy just to talk to you."
"That's not what I had in mind. I'm not asking you to fix me; in fact I don't want you to. You need a way home and I'm in a position to do that for you, maybe buy you some time."
He turned back to Jacob. "Look, I don't like having debts. What I did with Kanan was for my benefit and despite how badly it turned out-" He rolled his eyes upward. "I did get my life back, so I kinda owe you, the Tok'ra something. One thing though- when it's over I expect what's left to be returned to Earth. I'm not being buried on some back-ass water planet God knows where."
Khalil nodded trying to take in all the information he was being given so quickly. He had a million questions. This man had been a host before? Why did he not know of this, and what then of Kanan? Why would he offer himself but only for a short while? What happened when he was blended before? He wished he knew more of this Kanan, but they were barely acquainted, their paths had so rarely crossed.
Besides all of the questions Khalil had, it was a most odd proposition to deal with someone who honestly seemed to want nothing for himself. He found it quite sad and made his decision. "This arrangement is acceptable. I will try."
O'Neill nodded in reply. "Ask Daniel and Teal'c to come in here would you?"
They both knew something was up; they could see it in Jacob's face the moment they saw him.
"What! I thought after Kanan- Jack I was there. I saw what that did to you, what happened."
'Yeah, well I was there too, and yeah, it sucked. It's not the same situation this time; I'm not expecting anything except-" He stopped and glanced at Khalil, "that when it's over, it's over for good."
Daniel's face fell and he bit his lower lip. "You're giving up aren't you?"
The silence was more of an answer than O'Neill had intended and it struck home to all of them.
"I'm staying." Daniel folded his arms across his chest; his voice was not harsh or demanding, just matter-of-fact.
Teal'c glanced at the young man and struck a similar pose. "As will I."
O'Neill wasn't up for an audience but he was too tired to care. "Fine."
Jacob let Daniel and Teal'c move the Colonel to a side-lying position facing Khalil while he helped the Tok'ra turn to face his soon–to-be new host.
Just as their eyes met mere inches away from each other O'Neill grimaced. He could suddenly recall the blending with Kanan and the taste of its slime in his mouth. "You guys have really *got* to come up with a better way of doing this."
"Don't worry, I'm not going to kiss you."
That thought was worse than the slime thing.
"Just yawn or something."
"Or *something*? How many times have you done this?"
Khalil was getting a touch impatient, he'd already severed most of his connection with Tamar and was eager to complete the procedure. With one last supreme effort he forced the hosts hand to move and grasped O'Neill's broken arm.
"Ow!"
That was all the opportunity that was needed; Khalil jumped from Tamar into O'Neill's mouth in a flash.
O'Neill reacted by coughing and sputtering as was expected but then suddenly grabbed his head with his left hand. "Oh God! My head!" He stifled several gasps of pain and rolled onto his back. "Shit! Jacob!"
His eyes opened and he scanned the room for the elder Tok'ra. After another wave of excruciating pain he was able to talk. "Aren't I supposed to pass out or something?"
Selmac answered. "Try to relax, Khalil is very weak; perhaps he is unable to overcome your reflex to resist."
"I swear, I'm, not resisting! Oh God, my head's gonna explode!" With that he jerked to his side and began to thrash. When he rolled back the staff blast wound was bleeding bright red again and Daniel rushed to his side.
Selmac tossed a package of gauze dressings to Daniel and called Teal'c over. "Hold him."
Teal'c held O'Neill's body still and Selmac cradled his head in his hands as Daniel worked. The Colonel was still awake and in obvious pain but exhaustion was getting the better of him; at least he was a little more calm. Selmac gently wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead. "I believe this blending will fail."
Daniel frowned and looked at his friend. "So that's it?" Neither Selmac nor Teal'c spoke.
After a bow of his head Jacob returned. "I know it's hard to accept but I doubt if Khalil is able to do anything at all; in fact it looks like he's made matters worse. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have let them do it."
Suddenly O'Neill stiffened his whole body and jerked his head back then went completely limp and unconscious.
Inside his head O'Neill heard a soft voice. 'Be calm. I am here. Rest now.' The voice was strained but oddly reassuring. He was too tired to fight it anyway and fell into a deep sleep.
"Is he dead?" Daniel said with a sob at the sight of the completely still figure. Jacob slid his fingers down and felt for a pulse. "Alive, but not by much. He's probably in a coma; too much damage to his brain."
Jacob decided their best bet would be to head for his still hidden cargo ship. He estimated the distance at several miles but the forest was less dense here and he was sure they could do it in less than a day even with the injured slowing them down. Selmac debated the issue of moving O'Neill with the other Tok'ra and decided they would have to do it, waiting would probably only bring death anyway. A makeshift stretcher was put together and they set off with Teal'c and one of the Tok'ra carrying O'Neill and Daniel walking along beside them observing for any change in his condition.
Almost a full day later they found the ship where they'd left it. Selmac had one of the Tok'ra launch the glider just ahead of their departure as both a scout and distraction in the event they were spotted. Under the cover of darkness they made their escape.
The first stop would be the Tok'ra base and hopefully medical help for both O'Neill and Khalil. Unfortunately the Tok'ra physicians found no evidence of a blending, only the presence of a symbiote body. Since it seemed O'Neill wasn't healing any faster than he would on his own, which was barely at all, they determined Khalil was dead. Even the use of a healing device only stabilized O'Neill and had no effect on the symbiote. All they did was prolong the inevitable. Given O'Neill's grave injuries they decided it would kill him to remove the symbiote so they left it where it was to decompose. All they could do was return O'Neill to the Tau'ri for them to care for him until he died.
A few days later at the SGC…
Carter walked the long halls of the SGC swinging her bag and actually whistling, she had a great time while she was away. Tony's family turned out to be really quite nice, though not impressed by her status in the Air Force or anything else that even hinted that she had a brain. They *were* impressed that Tony had finally found himself a 'looker', and called her 'cutie' and 'babe' more times than she could count. She had an odd feeling of their idea of a perfect wife was the 'barefoot and pregnant' thing. Still, they were nice and she liked them.
Her first clue that something might not be right was the look on Daniel's face when she almost ran into him. It wasn't just that he didn't seem glad to see her; he looked like he hadn't slept in a week.
"Daniel, what is it?"
"Sam, we- we had a mission while you were gone. You need to go talk to Hammond."
Her eyes searched his for a clue. "Where's Colonel O'Neill?"
When Daniel's eyes fell her feet were set in motion on their own. She literally stormed into Hammond's office, still carrying her bag and briefcase.
"Major?" Hammond tried to keep his voice even, he knew she'd just gotten back and had no idea of recent events. Without waiting for her to start questioning him, he gestured to the chair. "Close the door. Please."
She grimaced. This was going to be bad.
The grimace turned to shock as the General related all he knew of the past several days. By the time he was done she was as pale as the papers littering his desk.
It was an effort to go by her lab first but she did, though only to drop off her things. Something was bothering her perhaps even more than what Hammond had said, it was the *way* he said it. It had only been a few days and he certainly should have some faith in O'Neill's resiliency. She wondered if Hammond had left something out. The whole thing sounded like a nightmare. Rescue mission gone bad. O'Neill was hurt and somehow, unbelievably, became a host. Said symbiote dies, leaving said Colonel in worse shape than before. So why was Hammond acting like he'd never come back? Just how hurt was he?
The first thing she sensed when she walked in the room was the presence of a Goa'uld. She had to shake herself to remember it was just the Naquadah in his blood, not a live symbiote. He didn't look all that bad considering, but then hospital sheets can cover a multitude of injuries. She did note the cast on his right arm and the way his pasty coloring made him almost disappear into the sheets. Not very much like the man she knew.
She stood at the beside a long time just looking down at him and trying to understand how things could have gotten so messed up in such a short time. For Christ sakes she was only gone two weeks! She tried to ignore a growing niggling thought in the back of her mind that maybe, just maybe this all wouldn't have happened if she'd been there, with her team, with her CO.
She jumped when a gentle hand touched her shoulder.
"Sam, honey. I didn't know you were back. Why don't you sit down?"
Carter turned into the sound of the voice and was met with the ever-present soft smile of her friend. Too late she blinked and a tear broke loose from her eye and she briskly wiped it away. "Janet, how did this happen? I mean General Hammond has told me all the details but this- "She gestured to the bed "How *could* this have happened?"
"You probably know more than I do right now; all my information is related to his current physical condition, not how he got that way."
"So he was blended again?"
"Yes, apparently something went wrong at the very beginning. Your father was there, did the General tell you that?"
Carter shook her head. If he did it was one of those pieces of information that gets lost when you're overwhelmed by too much input at one time.
"Well he was. He said there was nothing they could do, that sometimes when symbiote and host are both ill or stressed, blendings fail."
"Yeah, it was something Selmac said before she blended with my Dad, she told him it may not work because of them both being so weak."
"Right. He said this was explained to the Colonel. He went into this with a full understanding of the possible consequences."
Carter looked down suddenly to hide a sudden rush of emotion. She spoke quietly, "I'd really like to know *why* he did it. After what happened before I just can't believe he'd do it again to save himself. He barely agreed to the blending with Kanan and after how that turned out-" She crossed her arms in front of her chest and turned away, suddenly feeling the guilt for her part in the Colonel having to go through all he did.
"I don't know, Jacob wasn't very specific about that, he only said both of them were very badly injured." She paused the said, "Sam, you should know this will be over soon. You can spend as much time with him as you like."
"What do you mean? He's stable isn't he?"
Frasier realized Hammond hadn't broken the really bad news; as usual it was left up to her. "Stable, yes, for a short time. They used a healing device on him to see if it could help the symbiote but it was too late, all they managed to do was temporarily stabilize the Colonel. He is still gravely ill and getting worse. The symbiote is still within him, Jacob said it would probably kill him straight away if they tried to remove it. Problem is, now it's decomposing and flooding his system with toxins that he can't handle right now considering his other injuries. It will soon shut him down completely. Even if it weren't there he'd die anyway." Her head dropped. "I'm sorry, Sam, there's nothing I can do."
Carter took two steps back and when her knees hit the edge of a chair she immediately dropped to the seat. "He can't-"
Frasier rushed to her and hugged the now heaving shoulders. "Shhh. I know."
Sam sat by the bed listening to the almost musical soft beeping of the machines and watching the only movement, a slight rise and fall of the sheet every time the man before her took a shallow breath. Somewhere between nodding off and being wide awake with anticipation every time one of the machines changed it's rhythm she began to think again about her life and what she'd been missing. This time she missed out on something big. Add to that the guilt for not being there and you had the makings of a really, really deep regret.
She was so tired of this re-evaluation of her priorities she was doing lately yet she couldn't help but let her mind wander here in this sterile little room with no projects or equations to occupy her mind. It was just after 1 AM when she realized she'd forgotten her date with Tony. She reprimanded herself for being so selfish; she should have cancelled when she realized she wouldn't be leaving the SGC that night.
That thought struck her oddly. In fact she didn't know just when she'd *be* leaving. She glanced around the room and smiled at the people who'd joined her late night vigil. Daniel was asleep with his head resting on the foot of the bed and Teal'c, though she knew it wasn't Kel-no-reem, was seated in a cross-legged position with his back against the wall, breathing slowly and deeply. Even Janet was still there tonight working late since Cassie was at a sleepover with friends.
God, she loved these people. She and Tony had discussed this very thing.
She'd already recognized she needed to get back to some of her projects on hold in her lab and that she wasn't exactly being much of a 'friend' to her friends and needed to do something about it. Tony noticed she'd seemed a bit melancholy one afternoon and they'd had a long discussion about it. He wondered when she was going to start missing her friends and 'wimp' out on him. She was surprised to find he really didn't have a problem with easing off just a little. He was retired out of the military and only worked part-time now but it did require him to travel, something he'd been putting off since being with her. All they needed was a little coordination and she should be able to schedule time for work and her friends at the SGC and still see him on a regular basis when he was in town.
Little did she know there was a crisis brewing and she'd need to set that plan in motion immediately. She let her eyes follow the lines of the sheet and stopped to gaze at the face of her CO. She felt a pinch in her heart. What had she been doing while he was infiltrating a Goa'uld base and getting himself nearly killed?
Was it eating barbecue or was it the afternoon they went to the pool? She rubbed a hand over her face. Dammit. She should have been there for him.
She shook herself internally, not for him, for the *team*. That thought caused another surge of guilt.
Had she even considered Daniel or Teal'c might have been hurt too? She glanced back at them. They certainly looked healthy enough but she couldn't be certain. The second part of her guilt was that even now her foremost thought had been of the Colonel, like she was still tied to him in some way. Hadn't they decided to put that all behind them? So why was it bothering her now? He was a good friend and her CO and he was dying, so it was normal for her thoughts to dwell on him, right?
Her shoulders slumped. Somehow she couldn't quite answer that question. Suddenly the nice, neat little package she'd wrapped her life up in was turned inside out. She put her head down on the side of the bed and let her tears flow silently. Whether it was due to guilt or the stress of the day it didn't matter. Suddenly she missed Tony very much.
O'Neill made it through that night and the next and the next. The members of SG-1 settled into a routine, Frasier and her nurses herded everyone out in the mornings to bathe and do other personal care for the Colonel, Teal'c returned in the afternoon and Daniel in the evenings. Sam would stop by early just to check in then come back while Daniel was there, though not every night; when she did she'd stay quite late, more than once falling asleep with her head on the bed.
Several days later Frasier was in General Hammond's office with a frown on her face. "Doctor I would never presume to tell you how to do your job but it is clear from these reports that what we thought would be over quickly could become quite drawn out."
"Sir! This is Colonel O'Neill we are talking about! Just because he hasn't died yet-"
"And he has stabilized in his current state. You said yourself there was so much brain damage from the skull fracture and the symbiote he may never come out of the coma. We need to consider long-term care, that's all I'm saying. Petersen Hospital would be well equipped to handle him. And no, I don't want to see this happen either; I just can't commit the resources of this facility to something that can and should be handled in another way. You've sent many patients there before; why are you so against this?"
She didn't have an answer for him. Something was bothering her about O'Neill and the whole situation involving him. Part of her just couldn't give up on a good man but her gut told her she was missing something important. "Okay, yes, we don't know how long he may hold out; but for now he does still have the remnants of a symbiote within him. I insist he stay here until it is fully dissolved. All we'd need is for some yahoo-intern to decide to do a follow up CT scan and see it."
"Granted." Hammond was so glad this encounter was over. "I'm not in a rush to send him off, but it will be better for everyone to get back to business. She nodded. Of course he was talking about SG-1 who'd been on stand down all this time. It was Hammond's intention to keep them there as long as O'Neill was on the base; he knew they'd never be able to keep their minds on a mission if he gave them one.
Grateful for the reprieve, Frasier made a beeline to the infirmary to check on her patient. Sometimes it was therapeutic to her to go through the simple tasks of bedside care and she often assisted her nurses even with the 'little' things.
This morning she checked O'Neill's vital signs and dutifully entered them into his chart supposedly to be reviewed by herself at a later time. When one of the nurses came in with a box of dressing change materials she decided to stay and help with that as well. The staff blast wound had healed minimally, it was so deep it should have required surgery and now given the circumstances she was reconsidering it. If he was going to be around a while she'd make damn sure she'd do what she could to help even a little piece of him improve.
When she removed the dressing she got a shock. She had to double check to make sure this was the right spot. The skin beneath the bandage was pink and healthy; there wasn't even a scar. She only had to think about it for a minute and ordered a STAT ultrasound.
She knew the ultrasound was far less accurate than either the CT or MRI but it was a lot faster than those other more involved tests. Besides, she could do it herself and not wait for a technician to get some preliminary results.
Her eye caught something odd almost immediately, the symbiote had been slowly decreasing in size but in the image before her it looked like there were some tendrils in parts of his brain where they hadn't been before. Perhaps it was just the symbiote body breaking up as it was being absorbed. Suddenly she stopped and stared hard at the scanner. She saw something she would never have seen on one of the other tests- movement.
She quickly ordered a full round of blood tests and an MRI. She didn't leave his side until he was moved into the room containing the magnetic imager and even then sat watching him from the observation area, twiddling a pen in her fingers with nervous energy.
While waiting for the results to come in she lowered her head into her hands and closed her eyes for a moment. Could it possibly be what she suspected?
She felt rather than heard someone enter the room and sit quietly beside her. Carter's voice was only a whisper. "I've been looking all over for you, they said something happened a little while ago. Is he- is it over?"
Her voice was barely audible as she spoke the last few words. Frasier suddenly realized maybe she should be telling at least certain people what was going on- even if she wasn't sure just yet. She raised her head and smiled at the woman beside her. "No, honey. He's not worse. I'm not sure I'd call it better exactly."
Carter shook her head, "What do you mean?"
Frasier took her hands and spoke slowly and deliberately. "The symbiote is not dead."
"It has to be. They said-"
"I know what they said, but maybe it was in some kind of hibernation since it was too weak to do anything. And-" She looked the Major in the eyes, "I think it's trying to complete the blending."
Carter didn't know if she should be horrified or thrilled. "Does General Hammond know?"
"Nobody but us." The technician signaled the MRI was complete and Frasier stood. "I'm gonna look over those results then call the General. I'm pretty certain what it will show. You can stay if you like, they'll have him back in his room in a minute."
Sam nodded still in shock then gazed through the glass at the body being wheeled out of the room. When he was back in the infirmary bed and settled she did as Janet suggested and went to sit with him. She tried to tell if there was any difference than what she felt before of the Naquadah in his blood, but there seemed to be no change.
Inside the still body O'Neill was awake. He had been off and on for more than a day now. At first he was disturbed to realize he wasn't alone. He remembered Kanan vividly and this feeling was so similar it frightened him that it might be happening again. The only difference was that Kanan always seemed to keep a certain amount of distance between the two of them, Khalil did not; which in itself was a disconcerting feeling.
When he first woke he felt as though he was a small child being rocked awake by his mother. Khalil spoke to him very gently and quietly, knowing how startling it can be to hear a voice inside one's own head. 'You are safe. You were injured badly but now you are healing. It will be some time before you will wake enough to open your eyes but it is all right, your friends are caring for you.'
O'Neill slowly remembered what happened. 'Khalil?'
'Yes.'
'How long?'
'Many weeks.'
That response forced O'Neill to cringe. 'It wasn't supposed to be this way. That wasn't our deal.'
'I know.'
With the unexpected openness of the symbiotes mind O'Neill knew instantly what Khalil was feeling; remorse for subjecting this human to something he knew he did not really want, and shame for giving in to the desperation to save himself.
'The blending almost failed. The damage to your spinal column caused a loss of cerebral spinal fluid, which I require to live. That is why it was so painful at first; I was unaware of that injury. I know you did not want any 'repairs' but I was forced to accomplish that one or die immediately. It was the only injury from which you had no hope of recovery and I knew if I repaired it you would survive, though you would not be whole as you once were. That was also not our 'deal.' Afterward I was so weakened I was near death; I put myself into an extended state of dormancy in which to heal myself first. Then when I was able I began to work on you. Forgive me, but I could not leave you in this condition. After what you have done for me. As you say, I owed you.'
This was a lot of information to process. O'Neill expected to be dead, as in 'dead' from his injuries, but instead he was- where? In the SGC and apparently, under the care of Frasier and her staff.
'Don't think I don't appreciate this but-'
'When you are healed I will leave.'
The idea of going back to work at the SGC was not entirely pleasant. Who knew what changes there had been? How long was he gone anyway? 'Many weeks' could mean anything. Was SG-1 even a team anymore? He felt a sudden wave of sorrow when he remembered where Carter was during the rescue mission. Maybe there wasn't any reason for him to go back anymore.
O'Neill stopped himself and thought about it. For the first time he considered what it might be like to be someone, something different. Someone who could make more of a difference against the Goa'uld without the constraints of his obligations back home. If he had a family, or even just someone to go home to, it might be different, still, it was a snake and a deal's a deal.
O'Neill felt the sadness of the symbiote and spoke to him. 'You've got to realize I've been just me for a long time, I'm used to saying what I think and I'm used to being pretty straightforward.' He paused for a long time. 'I do understand the potential advantages.'
He suddenly sensed a ray of hope in the symbiote. 'Are many of you so easy to read?'
Khalil relaxed a bit. 'No, I don't think even Selmac is as open as I am. It is something that has worked well for me, if it upsets you I can increase the barrier between us.'
'No, don't. I just need to get used to it. Why do you do it?'
'I owe my life to you. Besides it would be so much more pleasant if we were friends as well as co-inhabitants.'
A little flag of mistrust went up in O'Neill's mind. 'Honey and vinegar.'
Khalil paused a moment to glean additional information from O'Neill's mind. 'Yes, perhaps.'
'So you're not really that different, not even from the Goa'uld.'
O'Neill felt the hurt hit Khalil like a knife and instantly regretted his statement. 'Sorry, it just seems…'
'I know. I am what I am. A parasite. But I can choose to not be that parasitical today. If the wall stays down there can be a true symbiosis with both partners reaping the rewards.'
O'Neill was suddenly inundated with images and feelings of Khalil and his last host Tamar. He was awe-struck, they were almost one being they were so close and cared for each other so much. When they switched control of the body there was almost no outward sign of it the transition was so smooth, and Khalil rarely ever spoke with the timbre of a symbiote, preferring the sound of the host's voice to his own.
'Be aware there are dark places within me, I will not hide these if you choose to look there.'
'I'm not all hearts and flowers myself. I guess its fair you should know what you've gotten yourself into.'
Khalil noticed the pun and wondered how intentional it had been. In an instant he knew it was and smiled; humor, he loved it; could it be he'd found another human with a penchant for it?
O'Neill felt Khalil moving closer to him and forced himself to not react. He let his mind momentarily drift across his past; fleeting images of growing up and joining the Air Force; the first time he flew a plane, his marriage to Sarah and the birth of Charlie and all the good times they'd had before the military took it's toll on him. The images degraded to the torture at the hands of Baal first then back to the prison in Iraq and the numerous Black Ops he'd been involved in. Finally he recalled Charlie and the mixture of sadness and elation he felt whenever he thought about him. He didn't dwell on any one thing for long.
Khalil shrank back from the horrors this human had lived through. The feelings of Charlie were so extreme, such a mixture of good times and bad. He silently requested to see more of the good. O'Neill complied with many memories of baseball and hockey games, cuddling on the couch and watching TV. Then there were the early years of his marriage to Sarah when they were still giddy in love with each other. There was something more in this area of O'Neill's heart, much more subtle yet just as intense, Khalil recognized the face of Jacob's daughter.
'Don't go there.' O'Neill warned.
'Why? You love her.'
'I can't.' The regulations and all the possible consequences flooded his mind momentarily making Khalil pull back again.
'Duty before self? You are much more noble than you believe. I will-' He paused, 'leave it, in the room as you wish.'
'Actually, no I'm not.' The conversation he'd had with Carter regarding Tony flashed through his mind. 'I'm not sure I want to go back and face that.'
An eyebrow on O'Neill's face twitched in response to Khalil. He knew this could be a defining moment in O'Neill's decision to remain together with him. Still the man deserved to know. 'Are you certain?'
'What? That I'm not keen on the idea of torturing myself daily by working with someone whom I care about but who does not return those feelings?' He figured he might as well lay it all on the line, Khalil knew it anyway.
'Are we talking about the same woman?'
'What kind of stupid question-'
'This one?'
In the infirmary the body in the bed was still deep in a coma, but suddenly his eyelids fluttered and for just a split second he opened his eyes. And looked straight at Carter.
