Chapter 6 - The Power Of One

For two days, Azyalae sat by her patient. There were no medical machines around for her to see what was inside, not like the Infirmary. There was no way of knowing what kind of damage was on the inside. Azyalae focussed her deep blue eyes onto the man beside her. She sat on a rickety old wooden chair beside the makeshift hospital bed. The hand she held in her own was larger, but motionless. The owner of the hand hadn't moved since two days before when he'd been brought to the doctor. His injuries were now tended completely. The cuts and contusions would slowly heal, but Azyalae knew some of the deeper cuts would leave permanent scars behind them. This was not her main concern.

At the present, Azyalae's main worry was for the cataleptic man lying next to her. "Jack," she murmured tiredly. She hadn't slept at all through either night. "Jack, you must wake up and prove to me you will be all right."

It was early in the morning, but Azyalae hadn't allowed herself to sleep through the night. The sun was yet to rise and the only light in the barn was a candle burning dimly inside a glass cylinder on the table nearby where Azyalae sat. The glow of the flickering candle fell upon Jack's face and made him look peaceful. Azyalae took note of the serene picture, memorising it. The bruises seemed to be irrelevant, almost unnoticeable. Azyalae smiled dimly and pressed a brief, friendly kiss to Jack's forehead. "Remain strong," she whispered and left briefly to get some food.

Azyalae returned to the barn twenty minutes later after getting some food for herself, and some for Jack in case he woke up soon. As she stepped up to the bedside, Azyalae saw the open eyes of her patient and dropped her chalice of water to the ground. An excited surprise grasped her voice momentarily, rendering her unable to speak.

"Hey," Jack croaked. "How long have I been out?"

Azyalae's face now was set in a smile. Her miracle had again come true. "I am so pleased to see your open eyes," she sighed happily, sitting down and taking Jack's hand in hers again.

There was a silent moment where each of them took a moment to collect themselves. Then Azyalae spoke.

"Please, describe for me how you are feeling," she said, her smile now imprinted. "I'm ok," Jack replied simply, disappointing Azyalae.

"This cannot be," she stated. "Your injuries are yet to heal."

"Trust me," Jack insisted, "I'm all right."

Azyalae knew better. She shook her head disbelievingly and clamped a hand down on Jack's arm before he had the chance to think of getting up.

"You are not 'all right'," she said sternly. "I am a doctor, and I will say when you are all right."

"You're sounding more like Doc Fraiser," O'Neill commented lightly, covering Azyalae's hand with his own. When she wouldn't let go, the lightness of the situation died. "C'mon Doc, I need to walk around a bit."

"You are in no state to be walking."

"I think I can decide that."

"I disagree. The last time I advised you not to do something and you did it, I was proven to be correct. This need not happen again."

"I'm not gonna go falling again, ok? Just let me up for a while and I'll come back. I promise."

"You shall do no such thing."

"Aw c'mon, you doctor's are all the same. I'm fine. Really!"

"If you are so 'fine' then why is it your voice is weak? Can you explain that? Or perhaps why your skin lacks colour?"

"My voice and my skin have nothing to do with my legs. Trust me, I can walk."

"Oh, you can?"

"Sure."

"Very well - you walk. And when I am proven to be incorrect, I will then apologise. Is this not fair?"

"It's great. Prepare to apologise."

Azyalae released her grip of Jack's arm and he sat up. Initially overpowered by nausea, he waited a moment before sliding his legs off the bed and his feet onto the ground. The soil was wet beneath his feet from where Azyalae had dropped her chalice of water. Not a moment after his weight was on his feet was Jack once again on the ground. Azyalae found it difficult to hide her smile. "Way to say I told you so," Jack mumbled as Azyalae helped him up and onto the bed again.

"Did I not say that - "

"Yeah, yeah," O'Neill interrupted. "Rub it in."

Azyalae smiled broadly at him as she pushed him to lay down again.

"You will remain here for some time," she told him. "I will hear no dispute about it."

"Sure," Jack muttered. "Cut your hair and get you a white coat - it's Doc Fraiser all over again."

"Rest now," Azyalae ignored Jack's complaints as she began to leave. "I shall bring you some water."

Jack watched her go and then felt the full force of pain hit him like a tidal wave. His eyes seemed to shut themselves as pain filled his body like he were a glass being filled with water. It seemed to begin at his feet and slowly rise until it overcame his head in agony. He couldn't help sucking in jagged breaths, trying to swallow the pain. It was all so shocking and so sharp.

"I have brought some more food as well Jack, just in case I cannot leave later on in . Jack?" Azyalae returned, happily chirping about what she returned with, but as she looked up and saw Jack's pained expression, she frowned and rushed to his side. "What is it? What is wrong?" she persisted worriedly.

"Nothing," Jack lied quickly and tried to slow his breathing to a regular pace.

"You are not being honest with me," Azyalae said, knowing she was right and that Jack wouldn't admit it.

"I am, just - trust me," he paused to wince and squint to hold in any other verbal reaction to the pain.

"Why do you not admit the truth?" Azyalae begged, frowning further. "You believe I cannot see it in your eyes? You believe I cannot hear it in your voice? Your words do not conceal the truth from me. I do not understand why you wish to in the first place."

There was a long moment of silence. Jack knew she was right. Knew it was obvious he was lying. He hadn't even had the strength to try hiding it very convincingly either. Azyalae wondered if she should have made such an outburst. It was uncalled for really, but she felt such irritation at the fact Jack continued to lie to her. It wasn't the kind of lie she was used to. She was used to being stolen from and watching people around her try to lie to save being tortured for not completing a task to Maldo's approval. She wasn't used to having someone lie about their own physical condition. No one bothered to do such a thing around her. Everyone had at least once been tortured and had to see her about their wounds. No one told her they were 'fine' when asked where their pain was. She knew, and they knew, she was a doctor. Denying their pain defeated the purpose of seeing the doctor in the first place.

"You are always this same way with your doctors?" Azyalae broke the silence gently with a query.

Jack was at a loss for what to say. It was unusual for him. "You'd have to ask Doc Fraiser about that one," he answered with a half-hearted smile, but his voice lacked expression. Something about the mentioning of the good Doctor again made him think of home. Home. The SGC. Earth. Where the people he knew, his friends, were. The place he missed.

Home.

@

Sam was pacing again. This time it was around her lab. Her work was piling up around her. She'd had no free time in her filled up mind to focus on working. Her head was completely packed with thoughts and problems. There was no more room for work. For logic. For anything.

"Damn!" she cursed suddenly, thumping a fist onto her desk full of papers. The thud made her close her eyes for a second and crease her brow. She'd been thinking for hours.

There was nothing more she could do. Sam sighed deeply and slumped into a chair. Why wasn't there anything else she could do? Why couldn't she find something? Why couldn't something, some idea, just jump into her mind and.

"That's it!" she exclaimed, running from her lab to her friend's quarters. She'd just come up with an idea.

"Daniel!" Sam shouted as she ran into his quarters.

He and Teal'c were making themselves comfortable, in preparation for the latest episode of the space-age cartoon show, Futurama. However, when Sam's urgent voice blew into the room like a gust of wind, both archaeologist and Jaffa turned to see her standing in the doorway, puffing.

"What are you doing?" she asked, a frown of puzzlement on her face. Daniel opened and closed his mouth several times before making a full word form.

"Well, we were - "

"Never mind that now," Carter cut him off. Her information was far more important. "I have an idea."

"What does this idea concern, Major Carter?" Teal'c asked.

"We have to go back to P4C 237," she replied.

"Which is.?" Daniel asked blankly.

"Where I was and Colonel O'Neill still is."

"But I thought General Hammond already said you're not allowed to go back. I thought he scrubbed the rescue mission. Did he change his mind?"

"No, Daniel. He didn't change his mind."

"Then, how - "

"I'm going to disobey his orders," Sam said, as though stating that the sky was blue.

"You're what?" Daniel asked in shock.

Sam was always one for the rules and now all of a sudden she was disregarding them without a worry? Something was definitely wrong with that picture. "You heard me Daniel."

"You can't do that, Sam."

"Why not?"

"It would be dangerous to attempt such a feat alone," Teal'c answered in place of the archaeologist, noticing he seemed to lack the reason he wanted.

"I'm not going alone," Sam revealed, "you two are going to come with me." Silence fell.

"You are going to come with me, aren't you?" Carter begged a response from her friends. They had to come with her. She couldn't do this alone, or she would have gone already. She needed their help. They needed to do this with her.

"Sam, this isn't like you," Daniel spoke the truth. This wasn't like her at all. Jack had been gone three months on Edora. Three months wasn't longer than four, granted and that situation had been different to some degree. They couldn't get through the Stargate at all then, and they'd had to wait a long time, but he'd still come home.

This was a little more than four months. The Gate was open. Circumstances were altered, and Daniel knew that, but this still was a very similar situation. Why Sam was up-scaling it, he didn't know, but if she was willing to go ahead and violate a direct order, then something was definitely wrong. Something big.

"Are you going to help me or not, Daniel?" Sam snapped.

Jackson licked his dry lips and began to shake his head, slowly. Not as a no, but as a thoughtful reaction.

"Sam, there's something you're not telling us here," he thought aloud. "Something you don't want anyone to know, but you're not hiding it well enough. You've never broken rules before. Why all of a sudden now?"

Sam frowned angrily at her friend and inhaled slowly. "Why are you doing this?" she asked sharply. "Why are you making this something it's not? My CO, our friend, is somewhere I have been. I've seen that place, and not only have I seen what they do there, I've had them do it to me. If this were you, or Teal'c, or anyone else I knew I'd be doing the same thing, Daniel. You don't understand; this is not a nice place to be. This is a place no one should ever have to go. Forgive me if I'm a bit relentless in trying to help our friend."

Daniel narrowed one eye. He wasn't completely fooled by Sam's speech. Fair enough, it made sense. And yes, he did understand that it was a horrible place, but that didn't make it any less obvious to him. There was something else to it; Daniel was sure of it.

"There's still something else, isn't there, Sam?" he foolishly persisted. This didn't impress Carter.

"Forget it, Daniel," she said harshly. "I thought you might want to help, but I guess I shouldn't have given you so much credit. You stay here and do what you like. I'll go by myself."

With that, Sam turned on her heel and stalked away from Daniel's quarters. The archaeologist turned to his friend.

"Determined, isn't she?" he said lightly.

Teal'c was clearly on Sam's side.

"I believe Major Carter has O'Neill's best interests in mind, Daniel Jackson," he offered, and then said no more. It was Daniel's choice what he believed, and clearly that choice, he'd already made.

@

After one day, Jack had had enough. The Infirmary was bad, but this was worse.

"Doc," he called. "I gotta go."

"Where is it you have to go?" Azyalae queried as she approached her patient.

"I have to try again."

"Try again? I am sorry, I do not - "

"Escape. I have to try again."

Azyalae frowned and shook her head. "No," she said. "You cannot."

"You don't understand; I have to," Jack persisted. "I can't stay here anymore."

"Your last attempt failed," Azyalae offered the obvious. "Do you believe they will not make this one fail also?"

"I have to take that chance."

"You cannot. I will not allow it."

"Why?"

"Your injuries are far from healed. You cannot take this risk. It will cost you your life if you fail. They will not be kind to you, but you should already know this. They will torture you again and your body cannot heal any further injuries. It will be your death."

"I'll be careful."

"No!" Azyalae nearly shouted, but it was unintentional. Her strong personality would not allow Jack to go and get killed. "You cannot go. Your care will not prevent them from finding you. You will die if you leave. I will not allow it." Jack breathed deep. How could he get around this problem? He couldn't stay much longer. He knew he'd go insane. He'd had training against all kinds of things, torture included of course, but this was nothing like anyone could ever imagine. It was worse than any kind of training could prepare anyone for. No one could be prepared for this. If he didn't get out soon, he knew he'd die there. It struck a nerve to think it, but he knew it was true. If he didn't go soon, he'd die.

"How long?" he asked simply.

Azyalae knew what he meant. "I am uncertain," she replied honestly. "Your injuries have had nowhere near enough time to heal. You must remain for some time. Please, do this for me."

"How about a day?"

"That is not sufficient time. You shall require far longer than that."

"Well, I can't wait that long," Jack said sharply.

Azyalae creased her brow and looked at the ground. She had never come across such a stubborn man as Jack. He literally was refusing to allow himself time to heal. It was ridiculous! It made Azyalae angry - something she was not accustomed to. No one made her angry, but Jack seemed able to.

"You must," she replied shrewdly.

"But I won't," Jack repeated.

Then there was an uncomfortable silence. It seemed to last for hours.

"At least two days," Azyalae said quietly. "Please, it is for your own good."

Jack nodded. The anger had left them both. "All right," he agreed. "Two days."

"Thank you," the doctor murmured. "I shall hope for you when you leave "Thanks."