Chapter 3 - The First Steps
That same day, Daniel talked to Sam. Told her what Jack had said to him. "I wasn't exactly calm," Jackson explained. "And you know how Dr. Fraiser asked us not to be pushy? Well, I kinda forgot that too."
"Daniel!" Sam exclaimed. "That's not going to make it any easier on Colonel O'Neill."
"Sam, you know what Jack's like, just as well as I do. Not being an ass does nothing. You have to be that way with him. It's the only way to get through to him."
"All right, granted, that's true - but Janet did ask that we not be. We don't know what he went through on P4C 237. We don't know what's going through his head. Being aggressive won't make it any easier on him."
Sam's reality check hit Daniel with unexpected force. Suddenly he felt very guilty about being so sharp and inconsiderate when speaking to Jack. He really hadn't considered the facts Sam had reminded him of. None of them knew what Jack had been through. True, it would be easier for them to try to help if they knew, but they could hardly force O'Neill to tell them. No one wanted to talk about horrible experiences and especially didn't want to be forced to. Daniel was glad Sam had given him this reality check; he needed it. "You're right," he admitted. "I was really inconsiderate, wasn't I?"
Sam's eyebrows rose and her expression told Daniel all he needed to know. He'd been really inconsiderate. He'd told the truth, but he'd chosen a bad way to do it. "Damn," he cursed. "I think I'll stay away from there for a little while."
"Might not be a bad idea," Sam agreed, but smiled kindly.
"Yeah," Daniel said quietly to himself, while watching his friend leave.
Sam went down to the Infirmary to see her CO. If he had spoken to Daniel, even if only to yell and tell the archaeologist to go away, perhaps he'd talk to her. Hopefully, he wouldn't yell at her too. Sam hoped he wouldn't. "Hi, Colonel," she tried to keep it light as she greeted her CO.
Jack looked away and silently sighed. Why won't they all just get the message? I don't want to talk to anyone; I've got nothing to say. "I just thought it might be nice to see how you were going, Sir, considering I haven't been to see you in a few days," Sam was honest, but she kept her phrase loose. She came to see how he was going, or if he was willing to talk about what happened. She hadn't been to see him in a few days; she'd stayed away because it seemed like a better option. Also, since Daniel had told her Jack had yelled at him, Sam was hoping that perhaps even although it wasn't proper communication, it may be the first step towards finally finding out what happened to O'Neill on P4C 237. The first steps toward freedom for him.
Jack had no intentions of talking to anyone. He'd have thought that yelling at Daniel to go away would have sent a pretty clear message to them all. He wanted to be left alone. That 'go away' didn't just apply to Daniel. It was for all of them. Why couldn't they all see that? Why were they all so hell bent on trying to make him 'talk' about things he didn't need to 'talk' about. He didn't need to, and he didn't want to. There was nothing to talk about. Things had happened on P4C 237. Things no one should have had to suffer through, but the people there did. Jack had been one of those people for more than four months. It was a long time, and there was a big change from Earth to P4C 237. It wasn't like sharing someone's house for a few days, or going away on vacation. If vacations were like P4C 237, then Jack never wanted another vacation. No one would.
"Well, umm," Sam struggled to find things to say. Talking to her CO was like talking to a brick wall, or a dead body. There was no response from him, no matter what anyone said. Sam was sure she could tell O'Neill the Goa'uld were taking over the Mountain and he still wouldn't show any emotion.
It was both bizarre and unnerving for Carter, but she knew she had to try. If no one tried, then O'Neill would only get worse and that prospect wasn't a bright one. "Janet says you're slowly getting better," Sam said cheerfully, a smile drifting to her lips as she watched her CO's emotionless face staring up at the ceiling. "Maybe you'll be able to leave the Infirmary soon too." Jack listened silently to his 2IC desperately trying to make him talk, without screaming it in his face. He knew they all wanted to. They all came in, calmly talking to him. All so concerned, and worried. They all wanted him to talk about it, like it would make everything better. Make it all go away. Well it wasn't going to go away. No amount of talking was going to 'fix' things, or make things disappear. Everything would still be the same. If Jack had the strength, he thought he might try to tell them that. Without yelling, try to tell them that nothing they could do would ever make it all right. Nothing would ever make it ok. He didn't have that strength.
"Colonel, I know we're all telling you the same things, and that you'd probably love to tape our mouths shut, but we are trying to help," Sam spoke so softly. She needed for her CO, her friend, to understand. They all needed for him to understand. "We all care about you, Sir. We're all worried about you, and we just want to help. We just want for you to get better. I understand, probably better than anyone else, what it was like there. I know how awful it was. You can talk to us about it. To me. You know that, at least, don't you, Sir?"
Jack knew Sam was trying to help. Knew she was doing her best to be the good, caring friend that she was. He thought about talking to her about it. Probably more than anyone else, she could understand. She knew what it was like there. She didn't know what it had been like there for him though. After she'd left, what he'd gone through. No one knew that. Not even Azyalae, the good doctor who had helped Jack heal, physically. Not even she knew what it had been like. She only saw what it looked like afterwards. What he looked like after the guards were done with him. Jack finally drew his eyes away from the ceiling and let them fall on Sam. She had deep concern creased into her brow. It didn't suit her. Her intense blue eyes were shadowed, hooded with worry. Sam noted the painful glimmer to her CO's chocolate brown eyes. It didn't suit him. It made his face look sunken and sad. She desperately wanted to help. To do anything that would make it ok. Something told Carter that nothing would make it ok.
Jack's eyes gave no indication he needed to talk, but he kept them focussed on Sam for a long while. Neither of them said anything, and that seemed to be ok for that long moment. Normally it may have been uncomfortable, or weird, but it wasn't now. Now it was ok. It said a lot. A lot that couldn't and wouldn't be said with words.
The endlessness to his eyes made Sam wonder more about her Colonel than she ever had before. It had never really occurred to her how deep his gaze was. How penetrating his eyes could be when focussed. Now they were focussed on her, and she felt the intensity of the gaze. It drew her in close to him, but still didn't allow her to understand. She still couldn't see what he was hiding away from them. "Say something, Colonel," Sam begged finally. "Please."
The words broke his gaze, and focus. He could no longer look at her. Jack tore his eyes away from Sam, so slowly it felt like slow motion. He wet his lips and looked down at his bed sheets. No one's eyes were in them. No words of worry came from them, and no faces stared back at him. None of his friend's faces. Sam chewed on her top lip for a moment, hoping her CO would look back at her - but he didn't. His silent gaze was down at his bed sheets now. His empty face turned away from the harsh reality of his surroundings. Sam nodded to herself. 'Ok,' she mouthed silently and left the same way. Silently.
@
Dr. Mackenzie returned to the SGC on schedule to find the situation there. Dr. Fraiser took a long time to explain everything about the situation to him, and he felt he understood it all well enough. Dr. Jackson and Major Carter had a turn at saying what they thought and asking questions of the doctor as well. Mackenzie told them all everything he could, but then requested time alone with the one person he'd not had a chance to talk to yet. The person they were all talking about. Colonel O'Neill. "Hello, Colonel," the doctor said with a smile as he sat down beside the silent Colonel's bed.
Mackenzie had never been one of Jack's favourite people, and he knew that, but he felt the situation needed to remain as light as possible. He kept his tone gentle as well as keeping his doctorly firmness. It was something he'd never been able to shake. Some people went for that, others hated it. Jack was one of the ones who wasn't particularly keen on it, but that didn't bother Mackenzie. He was used to having people either love or hate him, and he was fine with whatever they chose. He wasn't there to win popularity contests, and everyone knew that. Whether they liked him as a person or a doctor was their choice.
"Dr. Fraiser has had a talk to me about your great lack of communication, Colonel," Mackenzie got straight to the point. There was no reason to talk shit. Jack knew why Mackenzie was there, so why run circles around that fact? He was a doctor, not a circus clown. "That isn't one of my main worries. You will have to agree with me on this, though, it is rather uncharacteristic of you to be so quiet. Of course, you have every right to decide that you don't really feel like talking much, but, all things considered, it really isn't your style now, is it Colonel? No, I don't think you'll disagree with me there. So, you'll have to admit, that is one fairly noticeable sign that something's not right, isn't it? Well, once again I doubt you'll disagree."
Mackenzie realised he was basically having a conversation with himself, but being outward with his theories to the Colonel seemed like a good way to go about the situation. Apposed to keeping his thoughts private, if Mackenzie said them aloud to Jack, he would hopefully react to something he didn't like hearing. At least Mackenzie hoped so. "So, I suppose you're wishing I would go away and leave you alone now. Am I right, Colonel?"
Inside his head, Jack screamed out, 'Yes!' but outwardly, he made no apparent reaction on the doctor's view. "All right, Colonel. I understand something about you, that I think you hoped no one could see. You're a secure person. You believe in yourself and what you do, but you don't trust yourself sometimes. You think that people dislike you, when they don't and you feel like people are judging you, but they're not. Let me know how right I am here too, please, because I'm just thinking out loud really. Feel free to correct me at any point."
Mackenzie assumed a good position, from the outside. He was dictating. Telling Jack what he was, how he felt, how he saw things, rather than asking. Mackenzie felt as though it was a good strategy to assume for the Colonel, but he didn't realise how wrong he was.
Jack wasn't always secure, confident within himself. He may have been before, but he wasn't so sure now. He didn't really feel as though people were judging him, and if they were, he didn't care. He didn't really think people disliked him. Not a vast majority, but he knew those who he didn't get along with. The people he didn't like generally didn't like him either, so it was a fair arrangement. Overall, the doctor hadn't been terribly accurate in his assumptions. Dr. Mackenzie had gotten one thing right though. Jack didn't trust himself sometimes. Sometimes he felt so uncertain of himself, it scared him. He hid that fact quite convincingly, he thought, but perhaps not. Mackenzie was only making guesses though; he didn't really know what he was talking about. Right?
"My job isn't made easy when I'm talking to myself, Colonel," the doctor admitted, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his chin in his palms. "I guess no one can force you to say anything, but it makes life very difficult for you if you don't." Mackenzie leant back into his chair and pursed his lips, trying to find some way to make this stubborn man speak. "You know you won't be released from the Infirmary until you start talking. Whether you're healthy or not, you will not be allowed to leave here until you say something."
For the first time during this reserved meeting, Jack turned his head slowly towards Dr. Mackenzie. If I have to say something to leave, Jack thought, then I'll say something.
"Something," O'Neill hissed and turned away again. Dr. Mackenzie remained neutral and left his face expressionless as he sat and thought for a moment. He nodded to himself and then left the Colonel alone again, the way he wanted it to stay. Alone. It was quiet, and achingly difficult to stand, but alone was good. Better. Alone was easier.
"Dr. Mackenzie," Dr. Fraiser said as the man returned to her office. "Did your talk g - "
"No, Janet," Mackenzie interrupted gently, "I'm afraid it didn't go well. I talked to myself for a half-an-hour. That man is one of the most stubborn people, I think I've ever met."
"Yes, he's not exactly known for being cooperative."
"That's very true. I thought I would give him even a little incentive to talk by reminding him he would not be allowed to leave the Infirmary without saying something."
"And?"
"And, he did."
"What did he say?"
"Something. That was all he said."
Janet sighed and rolled her eyes. Irony and sarcasm. Two of Jack's favourite defences. Trust him to pick the most sarcastic way to solve a problem. "I'm afraid if his condition or his behaviour, one of the two, doesn't change, we'll have to commit him to mental health," Dr. Mackenzie said truthfully. He wasn't pleased about saying it, but he was afraid it was true.
"That's a bit drastic, isn't it?" Fraiser asked quickly, more horrified at the prospect than Mackenzie.
"Yes, I'm afraid it might be," he agreed, "but it's the only option."
"Surely.surely we can do something else?"
"I wish we could, Janet, I really do, but I just don't think there's any other way to go around it. If Colonel O'Neill doesn't show some signs of improvement within the next few days, I'll be informing General Hammond."
As unbelievable as it all sounded, Janet nodded. Mackenzie might be right, but she didn't believe he was. There might not be any other way to go about it. Jack couldn't spend the rest of his life bound to an Infirmary bed, nor did Janet believe he would want to. Admittedly, he didn't seem to be bothered with it so far, but his physical injuries were still yet to fully heal. When that excuse was no more, there would be no other reasons to keep O'Neill in the Infirmary. He wouldn't be able to go back to normal duties, but other than the fact he wasn't speaking; there would be no other reason to detain him to an Infirmary bed.
Janet wasn't afraid to admit that she wasn't comfortable with the idea of admitting Jack O'Neill to mental health, like they had Dr. Jackson when he was infected by the Goa'uld killers Machello invented. That situation had been quite different though. Daniel had actually outwardly been 'nuts' as Jack had said. Jack wasn't insane though. He was suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. There was a difference! He wasn't crazy. Of course, if he chose to live the rest of his life without talking to anyone, it would be a rather extreme case of PTSD, but still PTSD. Not schizophrenia, like Daniel. Jack was not schizophrenic. Janet didn't care how many people might say he was, or he was acting as though he could be, she knew he wasn't. He was not suffering from schizophrenia. He just wasn't.
Fraiser had made this personal. She didn't even know why, but something about it made it more important. This was Colonel O'Neill, and he wasn't insane. Committing someone who wasn't mentally ill, to mental health, was an idiotic act and also likely to send the person insane, rather than help them.
@
It was a hard week at the SGC for the members of SG-1, Drs. Fraiser and Mackenzie and General Hammond. Tough decisions were soon to be made, and a departure would result from a negative decision. Everyone knew who that deportee would be. Jack knew they all wanted to get rid of him. Sure, he thought, send me away from here and all your problems will go away. All YOUR problems! Everyone is desperate to know what mine are, but they wouldn't want to deal with them if they knew. God, I don't want to deal with them! Couldn't they just put me out of my misery, or let me do it? What harm would it do? It's not that much of a big deal, really. I wouldn't be missed. No one wants me around like this, and I don't want to be around while life is like this. What's the big deal? Just get me a gun, and I'll end all the problems. Mine and yours. End it all.
Janet had made it so personal that she had nearly lost her temper with O'Neill so many times she was angry with herself for it. More angry than she had been when nearly losing her temper. Sam tried to help in every way she could, but found that her help didn't seem to be needed. Dr. Mackenzie and Dr. Fraiser were both doing their jobs as best they could, and getting no results. How could Sam's help do anything more? If only she could find a way to get through to Jack. She'd begun to think of him as Jack now. Not Colonel or Sir. He just didn't seem like that person anymore. It had become personal for Sam too, because she'd been to P4C 237. She was the only other one who had seen even just a glimpse of what Jack had. She might not understand what he'd been through - she was almost sure she couldn't - but she could at least try to understand better than anyone else. Carter knew she had to use that to her advantage. It had to help.
"Janet," Sam said as she walked in on a conversation between Fraiser and Mackenzie. Their faces told her it was not a pleasant conversation. "What is it?" "We were just discussing Colonel O'Neill's condition," Fraiser replied. She knew Sam would have already guessed that much, but if she should further educate the Major, Janet was uncertain.
"Yeah, I guessed that," Sam confirmed. "What specifically were you discussing?"
"Specifically," Mackenzie said, "we were discussing when it would be necessary to move Colonel O'Neill to mental health." Mackenzie had always been an honest person, and he saw no reason to hide the truth from Major Carter. He knew she'd find it difficult to understand, and probably want an explanation, but he would quite happily explain exactly why it was the best thing to do. Mackenzie firmly believed it was the best thing. The horror of the decision was no longer an issue. It wasn't horrifying. It was a decision and he'd made it.
"What?!" Sam exclaimed. "You can't. Janet, please tell me you're not seriously considering this?"
Fraiser's eyes moved about uneasily, as one does when trying to avoid telling someone the one thing they do not want to hear. Janet didn't know what she believed was right, really, but she knew Mental Health wasn't the answer to Colonel O'Neill's problems. Sam had a fair idea what her friend's answer might be.
"I can't believe this," she said incredulously. "I can't believe you're considering this at all. The Colonel is not mentally ill. How can you say he is? How can you think of doing this, Janet?" Sam wasn't intentionally placing the majority of her anger onto her friend, but it seemed to be the only way she could release her feelings. How could they consider sending her CO away to a mental home? Whatever they were called. How could they even think of it? How could they?
"It's not my decision, Sam," Janet desperately tried to defend herself. It wasn't her choice. She disagreed with the idea just as much, if not more, than Sam did. Janet knew that O'Neill was suffering from PTSD and that Mackenzie didn't really want to spend the time trying to treat him. It was the easy way out; to say that Jack was mentally unstable and ship him off to mental health where they'd throw him in a padded cell and tell him everything would be ok. Janet knew, but there was nothing else she could do. If Mackenzie told General Hammond that Jack was mentally unstable and could no longer function properly as a member of SG-1, Hammond would ask for Mackenzie's advice, as a doctor, and Janet knew what he would suggest. Mental health would be the best place for him, Mackenzie would say, they would take very good, professional care of him. It would be best for Colonel O'Neill that way.
"Then do something about the decision!" Sam was unable to stop her voice from rising in volume.
"I'm afraid that it may be the only thing left to do, Major," Mackenzie said, standing up.
"Why? Because you say so? Because you can't be bothered? Because you're wrong! There's nothing wrong with him. He's fine. You have no idea what it was like on that planet. You didn't see what I saw - what we saw. You have no idea how horrible it was. If you were ever in Colonel O'Neill's current position, I hope the doctor looking after you would decide to ship you off to mental health. Then you'd know how it would feel, doctor."
"Sam," Janet said softly, trying to calm her friend, "this is Dr. Mackenzie's decision, and if he believes it's best for Colonel O'Neill then I really think we both should trust his judgement." Fraiser couldn't believe her words as she said them, but she felt as though she needed to calm Sam down somehow.
"Janet," Sam countered quickly, "how can you say that? His 'judgement' obviously isn't very good as far as I can see."
"Major, I appreciate your concern - "
"No, actually, I don't think you do," Carter cut off Mackenzie harshly, proving just how much she disliked him. Not only as a doctor, but as a person as well.
"Well, that's a shame," Mackenzie said smarmily. He was losing his popularity. Janet decided she needed to voice her true opinion, now that Sam had. She'd lied before when saying that Sam should just accept Mackenzie's judgement. Fraiser didn't want to accept it either. It was bullshit.
"No, actually," Janet said, "I don't think it is a shame. Your judgement is off on this. Colonel O'Neill doesn't need to be admitted to mental health. Sam is right, and you are wrong Dr. Mackenzie."
Being ganged up on wasn't something Mackenzie was used to, but he could find a way out of the situation. He always could. The two women eyed him defiantly and dared him to say they were wrong. Dared him to grow a temper and yell at them. He wouldn't dare give them the satisfaction.
"Perhaps," he said, in regard to Fraiser's earlier declaration that he was wrong, "but I think General Hammond can decide." Mackenzie smiled unctuously and left the office, headed straight to see Hammond. General Hammond can decide.
That same day, Daniel talked to Sam. Told her what Jack had said to him. "I wasn't exactly calm," Jackson explained. "And you know how Dr. Fraiser asked us not to be pushy? Well, I kinda forgot that too."
"Daniel!" Sam exclaimed. "That's not going to make it any easier on Colonel O'Neill."
"Sam, you know what Jack's like, just as well as I do. Not being an ass does nothing. You have to be that way with him. It's the only way to get through to him."
"All right, granted, that's true - but Janet did ask that we not be. We don't know what he went through on P4C 237. We don't know what's going through his head. Being aggressive won't make it any easier on him."
Sam's reality check hit Daniel with unexpected force. Suddenly he felt very guilty about being so sharp and inconsiderate when speaking to Jack. He really hadn't considered the facts Sam had reminded him of. None of them knew what Jack had been through. True, it would be easier for them to try to help if they knew, but they could hardly force O'Neill to tell them. No one wanted to talk about horrible experiences and especially didn't want to be forced to. Daniel was glad Sam had given him this reality check; he needed it. "You're right," he admitted. "I was really inconsiderate, wasn't I?"
Sam's eyebrows rose and her expression told Daniel all he needed to know. He'd been really inconsiderate. He'd told the truth, but he'd chosen a bad way to do it. "Damn," he cursed. "I think I'll stay away from there for a little while."
"Might not be a bad idea," Sam agreed, but smiled kindly.
"Yeah," Daniel said quietly to himself, while watching his friend leave.
Sam went down to the Infirmary to see her CO. If he had spoken to Daniel, even if only to yell and tell the archaeologist to go away, perhaps he'd talk to her. Hopefully, he wouldn't yell at her too. Sam hoped he wouldn't. "Hi, Colonel," she tried to keep it light as she greeted her CO.
Jack looked away and silently sighed. Why won't they all just get the message? I don't want to talk to anyone; I've got nothing to say. "I just thought it might be nice to see how you were going, Sir, considering I haven't been to see you in a few days," Sam was honest, but she kept her phrase loose. She came to see how he was going, or if he was willing to talk about what happened. She hadn't been to see him in a few days; she'd stayed away because it seemed like a better option. Also, since Daniel had told her Jack had yelled at him, Sam was hoping that perhaps even although it wasn't proper communication, it may be the first step towards finally finding out what happened to O'Neill on P4C 237. The first steps toward freedom for him.
Jack had no intentions of talking to anyone. He'd have thought that yelling at Daniel to go away would have sent a pretty clear message to them all. He wanted to be left alone. That 'go away' didn't just apply to Daniel. It was for all of them. Why couldn't they all see that? Why were they all so hell bent on trying to make him 'talk' about things he didn't need to 'talk' about. He didn't need to, and he didn't want to. There was nothing to talk about. Things had happened on P4C 237. Things no one should have had to suffer through, but the people there did. Jack had been one of those people for more than four months. It was a long time, and there was a big change from Earth to P4C 237. It wasn't like sharing someone's house for a few days, or going away on vacation. If vacations were like P4C 237, then Jack never wanted another vacation. No one would.
"Well, umm," Sam struggled to find things to say. Talking to her CO was like talking to a brick wall, or a dead body. There was no response from him, no matter what anyone said. Sam was sure she could tell O'Neill the Goa'uld were taking over the Mountain and he still wouldn't show any emotion.
It was both bizarre and unnerving for Carter, but she knew she had to try. If no one tried, then O'Neill would only get worse and that prospect wasn't a bright one. "Janet says you're slowly getting better," Sam said cheerfully, a smile drifting to her lips as she watched her CO's emotionless face staring up at the ceiling. "Maybe you'll be able to leave the Infirmary soon too." Jack listened silently to his 2IC desperately trying to make him talk, without screaming it in his face. He knew they all wanted to. They all came in, calmly talking to him. All so concerned, and worried. They all wanted him to talk about it, like it would make everything better. Make it all go away. Well it wasn't going to go away. No amount of talking was going to 'fix' things, or make things disappear. Everything would still be the same. If Jack had the strength, he thought he might try to tell them that. Without yelling, try to tell them that nothing they could do would ever make it all right. Nothing would ever make it ok. He didn't have that strength.
"Colonel, I know we're all telling you the same things, and that you'd probably love to tape our mouths shut, but we are trying to help," Sam spoke so softly. She needed for her CO, her friend, to understand. They all needed for him to understand. "We all care about you, Sir. We're all worried about you, and we just want to help. We just want for you to get better. I understand, probably better than anyone else, what it was like there. I know how awful it was. You can talk to us about it. To me. You know that, at least, don't you, Sir?"
Jack knew Sam was trying to help. Knew she was doing her best to be the good, caring friend that she was. He thought about talking to her about it. Probably more than anyone else, she could understand. She knew what it was like there. She didn't know what it had been like there for him though. After she'd left, what he'd gone through. No one knew that. Not even Azyalae, the good doctor who had helped Jack heal, physically. Not even she knew what it had been like. She only saw what it looked like afterwards. What he looked like after the guards were done with him. Jack finally drew his eyes away from the ceiling and let them fall on Sam. She had deep concern creased into her brow. It didn't suit her. Her intense blue eyes were shadowed, hooded with worry. Sam noted the painful glimmer to her CO's chocolate brown eyes. It didn't suit him. It made his face look sunken and sad. She desperately wanted to help. To do anything that would make it ok. Something told Carter that nothing would make it ok.
Jack's eyes gave no indication he needed to talk, but he kept them focussed on Sam for a long while. Neither of them said anything, and that seemed to be ok for that long moment. Normally it may have been uncomfortable, or weird, but it wasn't now. Now it was ok. It said a lot. A lot that couldn't and wouldn't be said with words.
The endlessness to his eyes made Sam wonder more about her Colonel than she ever had before. It had never really occurred to her how deep his gaze was. How penetrating his eyes could be when focussed. Now they were focussed on her, and she felt the intensity of the gaze. It drew her in close to him, but still didn't allow her to understand. She still couldn't see what he was hiding away from them. "Say something, Colonel," Sam begged finally. "Please."
The words broke his gaze, and focus. He could no longer look at her. Jack tore his eyes away from Sam, so slowly it felt like slow motion. He wet his lips and looked down at his bed sheets. No one's eyes were in them. No words of worry came from them, and no faces stared back at him. None of his friend's faces. Sam chewed on her top lip for a moment, hoping her CO would look back at her - but he didn't. His silent gaze was down at his bed sheets now. His empty face turned away from the harsh reality of his surroundings. Sam nodded to herself. 'Ok,' she mouthed silently and left the same way. Silently.
@
Dr. Mackenzie returned to the SGC on schedule to find the situation there. Dr. Fraiser took a long time to explain everything about the situation to him, and he felt he understood it all well enough. Dr. Jackson and Major Carter had a turn at saying what they thought and asking questions of the doctor as well. Mackenzie told them all everything he could, but then requested time alone with the one person he'd not had a chance to talk to yet. The person they were all talking about. Colonel O'Neill. "Hello, Colonel," the doctor said with a smile as he sat down beside the silent Colonel's bed.
Mackenzie had never been one of Jack's favourite people, and he knew that, but he felt the situation needed to remain as light as possible. He kept his tone gentle as well as keeping his doctorly firmness. It was something he'd never been able to shake. Some people went for that, others hated it. Jack was one of the ones who wasn't particularly keen on it, but that didn't bother Mackenzie. He was used to having people either love or hate him, and he was fine with whatever they chose. He wasn't there to win popularity contests, and everyone knew that. Whether they liked him as a person or a doctor was their choice.
"Dr. Fraiser has had a talk to me about your great lack of communication, Colonel," Mackenzie got straight to the point. There was no reason to talk shit. Jack knew why Mackenzie was there, so why run circles around that fact? He was a doctor, not a circus clown. "That isn't one of my main worries. You will have to agree with me on this, though, it is rather uncharacteristic of you to be so quiet. Of course, you have every right to decide that you don't really feel like talking much, but, all things considered, it really isn't your style now, is it Colonel? No, I don't think you'll disagree with me there. So, you'll have to admit, that is one fairly noticeable sign that something's not right, isn't it? Well, once again I doubt you'll disagree."
Mackenzie realised he was basically having a conversation with himself, but being outward with his theories to the Colonel seemed like a good way to go about the situation. Apposed to keeping his thoughts private, if Mackenzie said them aloud to Jack, he would hopefully react to something he didn't like hearing. At least Mackenzie hoped so. "So, I suppose you're wishing I would go away and leave you alone now. Am I right, Colonel?"
Inside his head, Jack screamed out, 'Yes!' but outwardly, he made no apparent reaction on the doctor's view. "All right, Colonel. I understand something about you, that I think you hoped no one could see. You're a secure person. You believe in yourself and what you do, but you don't trust yourself sometimes. You think that people dislike you, when they don't and you feel like people are judging you, but they're not. Let me know how right I am here too, please, because I'm just thinking out loud really. Feel free to correct me at any point."
Mackenzie assumed a good position, from the outside. He was dictating. Telling Jack what he was, how he felt, how he saw things, rather than asking. Mackenzie felt as though it was a good strategy to assume for the Colonel, but he didn't realise how wrong he was.
Jack wasn't always secure, confident within himself. He may have been before, but he wasn't so sure now. He didn't really feel as though people were judging him, and if they were, he didn't care. He didn't really think people disliked him. Not a vast majority, but he knew those who he didn't get along with. The people he didn't like generally didn't like him either, so it was a fair arrangement. Overall, the doctor hadn't been terribly accurate in his assumptions. Dr. Mackenzie had gotten one thing right though. Jack didn't trust himself sometimes. Sometimes he felt so uncertain of himself, it scared him. He hid that fact quite convincingly, he thought, but perhaps not. Mackenzie was only making guesses though; he didn't really know what he was talking about. Right?
"My job isn't made easy when I'm talking to myself, Colonel," the doctor admitted, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his chin in his palms. "I guess no one can force you to say anything, but it makes life very difficult for you if you don't." Mackenzie leant back into his chair and pursed his lips, trying to find some way to make this stubborn man speak. "You know you won't be released from the Infirmary until you start talking. Whether you're healthy or not, you will not be allowed to leave here until you say something."
For the first time during this reserved meeting, Jack turned his head slowly towards Dr. Mackenzie. If I have to say something to leave, Jack thought, then I'll say something.
"Something," O'Neill hissed and turned away again. Dr. Mackenzie remained neutral and left his face expressionless as he sat and thought for a moment. He nodded to himself and then left the Colonel alone again, the way he wanted it to stay. Alone. It was quiet, and achingly difficult to stand, but alone was good. Better. Alone was easier.
"Dr. Mackenzie," Dr. Fraiser said as the man returned to her office. "Did your talk g - "
"No, Janet," Mackenzie interrupted gently, "I'm afraid it didn't go well. I talked to myself for a half-an-hour. That man is one of the most stubborn people, I think I've ever met."
"Yes, he's not exactly known for being cooperative."
"That's very true. I thought I would give him even a little incentive to talk by reminding him he would not be allowed to leave the Infirmary without saying something."
"And?"
"And, he did."
"What did he say?"
"Something. That was all he said."
Janet sighed and rolled her eyes. Irony and sarcasm. Two of Jack's favourite defences. Trust him to pick the most sarcastic way to solve a problem. "I'm afraid if his condition or his behaviour, one of the two, doesn't change, we'll have to commit him to mental health," Dr. Mackenzie said truthfully. He wasn't pleased about saying it, but he was afraid it was true.
"That's a bit drastic, isn't it?" Fraiser asked quickly, more horrified at the prospect than Mackenzie.
"Yes, I'm afraid it might be," he agreed, "but it's the only option."
"Surely.surely we can do something else?"
"I wish we could, Janet, I really do, but I just don't think there's any other way to go around it. If Colonel O'Neill doesn't show some signs of improvement within the next few days, I'll be informing General Hammond."
As unbelievable as it all sounded, Janet nodded. Mackenzie might be right, but she didn't believe he was. There might not be any other way to go about it. Jack couldn't spend the rest of his life bound to an Infirmary bed, nor did Janet believe he would want to. Admittedly, he didn't seem to be bothered with it so far, but his physical injuries were still yet to fully heal. When that excuse was no more, there would be no other reasons to keep O'Neill in the Infirmary. He wouldn't be able to go back to normal duties, but other than the fact he wasn't speaking; there would be no other reason to detain him to an Infirmary bed.
Janet wasn't afraid to admit that she wasn't comfortable with the idea of admitting Jack O'Neill to mental health, like they had Dr. Jackson when he was infected by the Goa'uld killers Machello invented. That situation had been quite different though. Daniel had actually outwardly been 'nuts' as Jack had said. Jack wasn't insane though. He was suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. There was a difference! He wasn't crazy. Of course, if he chose to live the rest of his life without talking to anyone, it would be a rather extreme case of PTSD, but still PTSD. Not schizophrenia, like Daniel. Jack was not schizophrenic. Janet didn't care how many people might say he was, or he was acting as though he could be, she knew he wasn't. He was not suffering from schizophrenia. He just wasn't.
Fraiser had made this personal. She didn't even know why, but something about it made it more important. This was Colonel O'Neill, and he wasn't insane. Committing someone who wasn't mentally ill, to mental health, was an idiotic act and also likely to send the person insane, rather than help them.
@
It was a hard week at the SGC for the members of SG-1, Drs. Fraiser and Mackenzie and General Hammond. Tough decisions were soon to be made, and a departure would result from a negative decision. Everyone knew who that deportee would be. Jack knew they all wanted to get rid of him. Sure, he thought, send me away from here and all your problems will go away. All YOUR problems! Everyone is desperate to know what mine are, but they wouldn't want to deal with them if they knew. God, I don't want to deal with them! Couldn't they just put me out of my misery, or let me do it? What harm would it do? It's not that much of a big deal, really. I wouldn't be missed. No one wants me around like this, and I don't want to be around while life is like this. What's the big deal? Just get me a gun, and I'll end all the problems. Mine and yours. End it all.
Janet had made it so personal that she had nearly lost her temper with O'Neill so many times she was angry with herself for it. More angry than she had been when nearly losing her temper. Sam tried to help in every way she could, but found that her help didn't seem to be needed. Dr. Mackenzie and Dr. Fraiser were both doing their jobs as best they could, and getting no results. How could Sam's help do anything more? If only she could find a way to get through to Jack. She'd begun to think of him as Jack now. Not Colonel or Sir. He just didn't seem like that person anymore. It had become personal for Sam too, because she'd been to P4C 237. She was the only other one who had seen even just a glimpse of what Jack had. She might not understand what he'd been through - she was almost sure she couldn't - but she could at least try to understand better than anyone else. Carter knew she had to use that to her advantage. It had to help.
"Janet," Sam said as she walked in on a conversation between Fraiser and Mackenzie. Their faces told her it was not a pleasant conversation. "What is it?" "We were just discussing Colonel O'Neill's condition," Fraiser replied. She knew Sam would have already guessed that much, but if she should further educate the Major, Janet was uncertain.
"Yeah, I guessed that," Sam confirmed. "What specifically were you discussing?"
"Specifically," Mackenzie said, "we were discussing when it would be necessary to move Colonel O'Neill to mental health." Mackenzie had always been an honest person, and he saw no reason to hide the truth from Major Carter. He knew she'd find it difficult to understand, and probably want an explanation, but he would quite happily explain exactly why it was the best thing to do. Mackenzie firmly believed it was the best thing. The horror of the decision was no longer an issue. It wasn't horrifying. It was a decision and he'd made it.
"What?!" Sam exclaimed. "You can't. Janet, please tell me you're not seriously considering this?"
Fraiser's eyes moved about uneasily, as one does when trying to avoid telling someone the one thing they do not want to hear. Janet didn't know what she believed was right, really, but she knew Mental Health wasn't the answer to Colonel O'Neill's problems. Sam had a fair idea what her friend's answer might be.
"I can't believe this," she said incredulously. "I can't believe you're considering this at all. The Colonel is not mentally ill. How can you say he is? How can you think of doing this, Janet?" Sam wasn't intentionally placing the majority of her anger onto her friend, but it seemed to be the only way she could release her feelings. How could they consider sending her CO away to a mental home? Whatever they were called. How could they even think of it? How could they?
"It's not my decision, Sam," Janet desperately tried to defend herself. It wasn't her choice. She disagreed with the idea just as much, if not more, than Sam did. Janet knew that O'Neill was suffering from PTSD and that Mackenzie didn't really want to spend the time trying to treat him. It was the easy way out; to say that Jack was mentally unstable and ship him off to mental health where they'd throw him in a padded cell and tell him everything would be ok. Janet knew, but there was nothing else she could do. If Mackenzie told General Hammond that Jack was mentally unstable and could no longer function properly as a member of SG-1, Hammond would ask for Mackenzie's advice, as a doctor, and Janet knew what he would suggest. Mental health would be the best place for him, Mackenzie would say, they would take very good, professional care of him. It would be best for Colonel O'Neill that way.
"Then do something about the decision!" Sam was unable to stop her voice from rising in volume.
"I'm afraid that it may be the only thing left to do, Major," Mackenzie said, standing up.
"Why? Because you say so? Because you can't be bothered? Because you're wrong! There's nothing wrong with him. He's fine. You have no idea what it was like on that planet. You didn't see what I saw - what we saw. You have no idea how horrible it was. If you were ever in Colonel O'Neill's current position, I hope the doctor looking after you would decide to ship you off to mental health. Then you'd know how it would feel, doctor."
"Sam," Janet said softly, trying to calm her friend, "this is Dr. Mackenzie's decision, and if he believes it's best for Colonel O'Neill then I really think we both should trust his judgement." Fraiser couldn't believe her words as she said them, but she felt as though she needed to calm Sam down somehow.
"Janet," Sam countered quickly, "how can you say that? His 'judgement' obviously isn't very good as far as I can see."
"Major, I appreciate your concern - "
"No, actually, I don't think you do," Carter cut off Mackenzie harshly, proving just how much she disliked him. Not only as a doctor, but as a person as well.
"Well, that's a shame," Mackenzie said smarmily. He was losing his popularity. Janet decided she needed to voice her true opinion, now that Sam had. She'd lied before when saying that Sam should just accept Mackenzie's judgement. Fraiser didn't want to accept it either. It was bullshit.
"No, actually," Janet said, "I don't think it is a shame. Your judgement is off on this. Colonel O'Neill doesn't need to be admitted to mental health. Sam is right, and you are wrong Dr. Mackenzie."
Being ganged up on wasn't something Mackenzie was used to, but he could find a way out of the situation. He always could. The two women eyed him defiantly and dared him to say they were wrong. Dared him to grow a temper and yell at them. He wouldn't dare give them the satisfaction.
"Perhaps," he said, in regard to Fraiser's earlier declaration that he was wrong, "but I think General Hammond can decide." Mackenzie smiled unctuously and left the office, headed straight to see Hammond. General Hammond can decide.
