Chapter 4 - Judgement Call
After Dr. Mackenzie had been to the General, Dr. Fraiser went to put forward her beliefs. "General," she said, "Dr. Mackenzie is wrong in saying what he has."
"How so, doctor?" Hammond asked fairly, sitting down behind his desk and offering Fraiser a seat with a gesture of his hand.
"Sending Colonel O'Neill away to mental health will not be in the best interests of the Colonel, General, I assure you." Janet was very passionate about this now. Hammond could hear the doctor's determination by her tone. The way she annunciated each word and pushed forward her point of view.
"Please continue," the General said, nodding for the doctor to go on.
"Colonel O'Neill is not mentally ill, Sir," Janet began, "he's suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. It's very common following a life threatening or extraordinarily horrifying chain of events. Colonel O'Neill's situation fits perfectly with his symptoms. He's not sleeping, and when he does get a rare hour or so of rest, he wakes up very suddenly, sweating excessively and sometimes crying out. Whatever happened to him on that planet was not pleasant, General, but he is not suffering from schizophrenia or any other mental illness. PTSD, I suppose, could be classified as a mental illness, but in this circumstance, I wouldn't call it one."
"What are you suggesting then, doctor?" Hammond asked, interested in taking in her thoughts.
"Well, General, I'm not really sure," Janet admitted, "but I am sure that committing Colonel O'Neill to mental health will not do him any favours. His condition is not good, but it will only worsen if he's among other seriously ill psychiatric patients. He really needs to be around people he feels comfortable with. Talking is our ultimate goal for the Colonel, Sir. He needs to talk about what happened. It's the best thing for him in the grand scheme of things."
Hammond nodded, trying to understand the full picture from both Dr. Mackenzie's point of view, and Dr. Fraiser's. Both personal opinions were very different, but the General had a strong feeling that Dr. Fraiser's personal opinion was closer to being in Jack's best interest. Medically speaking, it may not be, although Hammond doubted it, but he was more concerned for Jack's best interests than the best medical interests.
"All right, doctor," he said finally, after taking a long four and a half minutes to think. "I like the thought of Colonel O'Neill's best interests being taken care of. If you believe it is best for him to stay here in familiar surroundings, then I trust your judgement. But, I cannot and will not let any of SG-1 return to active duty while their minds aren't fully with what they are doing. Until there is no further worry about Jack's condition, both he and the rest of SG-1 are on stand-down. Do you agree that's fair?" Janet nodded, forcing the smile away from her lips.
"Yes, Sir," she replied and began to leave.
"Oh, and by the way, doctor," Hammond said after her. Janet stopped and turned back to the General.
"I appreciate you coming and letting me know about all of that, rather than allowing Dr. Mackenzie to proceed with his professional judgement call. He's a good doctor, but not always so in touch with the needs of people." Fraiser smiled back at Hammond and nodded as she left.
Dr. Mackenzie was definitely not in touch with his feminine side.
@
"Janet, I need to speak with you," Sam said demandingly.
"Before you say anything, Sam - "
"Janet, you need to say something to General Hammond about Mackenzie's decision. He's a jerk and he doesn't know what he's talking about. If you say something, then - "
"Sam!" Janet said nice and loud, so Sam could hear.
The Major stopped and looked at her friend, her eyes still sharp. "I've already talked to the General," Fraiser said, allowing herself to smile. "He agreed with me. Colonel O'Neill is staying here."
Sam's eyebrows rose and the sharpness left her eyes. "Oh," she said, feeling sheepish. "That's good."
"Yes, I thought you'd be pleased. Now it's just a matter of getting Colonel O'Neill to appreciate our efforts."
Sam nodded, peering out of Janet's office to see the distantly distracted Colonel. "He still hasn't said anything?" she stated, rather than asked.
Janet nodded. "I just don't know what else to try, Sam. I've been through it all a million and one times in my head. I know we don't know what he went through, which is why he is the way he is now, but we can't help without knowing."
"He won't say anything, which brings us back to square one, I know," Sam filled in the gaps for the doctor. "I've been going over it all in my head too. So many times, it hurts. Now when I think about it, I just get a headache. It's definitely harder than physics ever was."
"No wonder I can't figure it out," Janet smiled. Adding some light humour to the situation was the only way for it not to depress everyone involved. It was already stressful enough.
"I think I've read every book I own that has any reference at all in it about PTSD," Fraiser added. "Even that doesn't seem to be any help."
Sam started to chew on her top lip. What else could they do? What other ways were there to go about this? "General Hammond also told me that SG-1, all of you, are on stand-down until Colonel O'Neill is not a worry for you all."
"Good," Sam said absently, nodding. "I'd really rather stay here and try to help."
"Well just don't forget that you need rest too, Sam. I know what you're like."
"Uh huh.don't worry about me. It's the Colonel I'm worried about."
"Yes, I am too. I just don't know what else there is we can do. We haven't tried everything, but there isn't really a whole lot of everything to try."
"What about hypnosis?" Sam asked suddenly, after a long space of silence.
"Hypnosis," Janet repeated, getting a better picture of it in her head. Would that be a good idea? She'd heard that if someone isn't willing, then hypnosis doesn't work, no matter what. If O'Neill wasn't willing, there would be no use trying. "It might work."
Sam nodded, almost to herself and then meandered her way out to her CO. His lack of talk would make it easy for her to explain the idea to him without interruptions. "Colonel," she said, sitting on the bed next to his. "Janet and I just thought of something to help you."
Although Jack's pattern of thought wasn't focussed on the words Carter was saying to him, he drew his eyes away from the ceiling and looked at her. Sam was grateful for the recognition. "How would you feel about trying hypnosis, Colonel?" she asked, almost holding her breath in anticipation. Please, Colonel, she thought, please try this. Please let us help you. Let us try.
Jack could almost hear Carter hoping he'd say yes. Hoping he'd agree to let them try to help him. Why? Why should he? He didn't need their help anyway. I just want you all to leave me alone, Jack thought tiredly. Is that so much to ask? That you just leave me alone? Perhaps if he let them do this, and it didn't work, then they would give up. Then they would realise how fruitless their attempts to help him were, and they would drop it. They would finally grant him his wish, to be left alone. Sam watched her CO's eyes drift away, while thinking. She could almost see the deep thoughts through his distant gaze. All she wanted - all they wanted - was to help him. That's all. Just to help.
"You don't have to try it, Sir," Sam said, to reassure O'Neill that he was under no pressure. "It was just an idea. We thought it might be a good one, but if you don't want to do it, that's ok." Using subtlety was probably not going to gain Sam any of the answers she sought, but it was worth a try.
Jack swallowed hard and asked himself the obvious questions. Was this a good idea? Would this make them finally give him what he wanted? If he did this, would he reveal the very things he was trying to hide? The very things he didn't want to remember. Would this make everything harder, or easier? Was it worth the risk? Was it worth trying?
"Ok," he said finally and very quietly. He knew Carter had heard him. Sam nodded, almost to herself and forced the mild smile away from her face. She wasn't sure she was ready to hear what her CO had been through on P4C 237 after she left, but it wasn't about her. This was going to help Colonel O'Neill. He needed this help. They all knew he needed it.
@
"Janet." Dr. Fraiser turned around to see her friend standing in the doorway of her office, looking just as young and vivacious as she always had.
"Kayla," Janet smiled and approached the woman.
"Oh, it has been a long time, hasn't it?" Kayla asked as she embraced her friend and then pushed her back to take a look at her. "Ah, you still look lovely, Janet," she smiled.
"So do you," Fraiser returned the compliment and invited her friend to sit down. Kayla O'Shaunessy and Janet Fraiser had been friends since high school. The pair hadn't seen each other in years, and were pleased to see one another after such a long time.
Kayla was a short woman, perhaps a few inches taller than Janet. Her wavy, short, ash-blonde hair sat on the back of her head in a neat bun, as she always wore it for work. Out, it rested just below her shoulders. Her shimmering green eyes were as vibrant as Janet remembered them, and Kayla's smile hadn't changed a bit; it could still light up anyone's day. Her pasty white Irish skin was still as clean and youthful as ever, and she still had her trim figure. The two women smiled at each other for a long moment. "Well, I must say," Kayla said, "I was surprised when they told me you would be here."
Kayla had studied in similar fields as Janet, but then moved on to specialize in Psychology later. Janet had no idea Kayla was in any way involved with The Pentagon or organizations around the SGC, but clearly, she was, otherwise they wouldn't have sent her. "I'm just as surprised that you're here," Janet smiled, offering her friend a seat.
"I've no doubt," Kayla's beautiful Irish accent was still as prominent as ever when she spoke.
Janet had always loved it. "Now, you must help me out here, Janet," Kayla said. "I know everything about this place is classified because all I'm allowed to know about your patient is his name."
"Yeah," Janet almost sighed at the thought, "it's a bit like that around here."
"So I guessed," Kayla laughed. "Surely you can tell me a little more about this, Colonel O'Neill."
"Not a lot, I'm afraid."
"I see. Well I suppose I'll have to find out for myself then, won't I?" Kayla smiled brightly, revealing her lovely straight, gleaming white teeth. "Where is he, then?"
"Janet."
Another voice invited itself into the conversation. When Janet lifted her eyes to see Sam standing in the doorway, she smiled. "Sam," the doctor said, "come in."
"Well, hello," Kayla greeted the Major cheerfully; standing up and smiling her dazzling smile once again.
Sam smiled uncertainly, without showing her teeth, and then looked back to Janet for an introduction. "Oh!" the doctor exclaimed, also standing up. "Sam, this is a friend of mine, Kayla O'Shaunessy. She's here to help with the hypnosis you suggested trying. Kayla, this is Major Carter."
"It's nice to meet you," Kayla said, nodding her head. "You're Sam Carter then, are you?"
"Yeah," Sam replied, still feeling a little out of it. "You're."
"Irish," Kayla smiled with a giggle, "sure am. Are you my patients'. wife?" A rope almost wrapped around Sam's neck at the thought. She could almost feel her face turning blue, or red. Her mouth slowly opened, but no words came out. She looked to the floor and slowly began to shake her head. Wife.
"No, no," Janet filled in, "Sam's on the same team as Colonel O'Neill. She's his second in command."
"Oh," Kayla said, nodding. She almost felt bad now, for asking. She noticed that Sam was incredibly quiet and distant suddenly. "Are you all right?"
Sam didn't even really understand the words, but thought they might be directed at her, considering she was the only one acting strangely. She looked up and slowly nodded her head again. "I didn't mean to upset you," Kayla said, just to reinforce her apology.
Sam nodded again, equally as slowly as before, and then she began to leave Janet's office. "Sam," Janet called after her friend, "don't you want to be there when Kayla talks to the Colonel?"
Sam stopped. "Oh," she breathed.
"You sure you're ok, Sam?" Fraiser asked.
Sam lightened her expression and raised her eyebrows. "Yeah," she said, a little more convincingly. "I'm ok."
"Oh, that is good," Kayla added with a smile, "I don't need another patient, now do I?"
The group smiled and made their way to where O'Neill was.
Kayla surveyed the man and took mental notes. Blankness, distracted gaze, silence, apathetic. "Colonel, this is Dr. O'Shaunessy," Janet introduced her friend.
Kayla shook her head no. "Kayla's fine, Colonel," she said. "Would you prefer I call you by your first name?"
Jack made no attempt to respond. "All right then, I'll just stick to Colonel," Kayla went on, unperturbed. "Now before I do anything, I must ask that you two," she looked to Janet and Sam, "please stay very quiet. Any sounds or movement will be a distraction, and may cause the hypnotic state to be interrupted. Some of the things I ask, or some of the responses you hear may be disturbing, or unnerving, but I ask you please don't comment. If you feel upset or uncomfortable at any time, you can leave, but quietly. The same thing applies for you, Colonel. If at any time you feel uncomfortable or that you cannot go on, that's fine. You can very simply ease yourself out of the hypnosis. We can perhaps, try again, or leave it alone for today. I'm not fussed by either idea. Is that all right? Is everyone happy with all that? I'm sorry for the orders, I must sound terrible."
Janet smiled, and nodded. "Got it," she said. "Sam?"
"Yes," Sam agreed, "I understand." She wasn't sure she was ready to hear everything that had happened to her CO, but if it got too much for her, she could leave. It was likely she would.
"All right," Kayla said, "I'm going to begin now, are you ok with that, Colonel?" Again, Jack didn't say anything.
"I'm afraid I'm going to have ask you to respond, Colonel. I won't go on without hearing from you that it is ok."
"Yes," Jack said, "it's fine."
"Ok."
***
Once inside the torture chamber, the guards shut the door. Darkness surrounded me. I felt cold, but I wasn't sure if it was me or just the weather. The guard named Lopbell tied my thumbs together in front of me, with frayed, dirty rope. It looked like it had seen better days. I was pretty sure I'd be feeling like that soon. The other guard stood me up, stripped me of my shirt and wrapped some more rope around my wrists. Lopbell - who I'd christened Bell Boy - saw to my ankles. "It's not like I'm going anywhere," I told him, but I only got a fist across my face for my efforts. "Sure," I muttered, "you probably already knew that."
"Be silent," Bell Boy growled, practically throwing me across the room to the far wall.
I got up close and personal with that wall for a long time that day. After Bell Boy shoved me in front of it and had two other guards hold me against it, he got out his favourite whip. I didn't know how much blood I'd lost by the end of it all, but it hadn't been enough for me to lose consciousness. As far as I was concerned, I wished I'd lost more. After twenty-something lashes, I lost count of how many times that whip was thrown against my back. I could feel the blood running down my cold, bare skin and that the skin was slowly being torn away. It felt like it was all just hanging there, shredded like cheese. Bell Boy didn't seem satisfied though. It wasn't enough that I barely had any skin left on my back, no. No, he needed more than that. The two other unnamed guards gripped my shoulders hard, as though they wanted to dislocate them. Bell Boy left the chamber, but came back quickly. He had some leafy looking thing in his hand; I caught a glimpse of it as the door closed behind him.
My back was red-raw in pain, and that was an advantage for Bell Boy's friends. They both scribbled the blades' of their swords around, like my back was their canvas. It created ripples of flowing, burning pain, and I couldn't stop my mouth from opening. Bell Boy took the opportunity to shove his leaf in my mouth and then clamp his hands around my jaw to keep it shut. Whatever his leaf was, it sure as hell stung. My mouth was bone dry from dehydration, and the leaf, or whatever it was, sent sparks of pain down my throat. I wanted to throw up, and spit out the stupid plant, but Bell Boy's grip was solid. He wasn't letting go. One of his friends behind me lightly gripped my throat - checking to see I had swallowed the plant. I didn't want to swallow it. It was burning so bad inside my mouth; I didn't want to think what it would feel like if I swallowed it. Bell Boy didn't seem to care about that though, and had his other friend hold my nose, so I couldn't breathe. I could almost feel my face turning blue. I needed to breathe, badly. I could feel myself slowly losing consciousness. I had to hold on. But I couldn't swallow that thing!
"You will swallow it!" Bell Boy shouted in my face, as though he could hear my thoughts. I wanted to tell him that I wasn't going to. Tell him I'd rather die than give him the satisfaction, but when the tip of a sword again began to scribble on my back, I had to swallow. Immediately Bell Boy released my mouth and the other guard, my nose. I quickly drank in large gulps of air, like it was trying to get away from me. I felt like I was on a merry-go-round with monotonous music, only everything was happening too fast. The room was spinning around me as my throat burned from the leaf I had swallowed. Bell Boy smiled, he thought it was fun to watch, and then knocked me to the ground.
I hit it so hard, it hurt. My face stung where the dirt and small rocks had scraped my skin and drawn more blood. My head spun endlessly and my throat burned like I had swallowed fire. My vision was so blurred now; I hadn't even noticed how hazy everything looked. Bell Boy was just a fuzz before my eyes as he wrenched me to my feet by my hair. He held me, just above the ground, by my hair and stared at me. He definitely wasn't struggling to hold me up, which surprised me a little. I'm not that heavy, but I'm not light either, that's for sure. There was no notable effort in holding me up, though, from Bell Boy. He sneered and threw me away like a rag-doll. I felt like one as I landed and heard a crack. The urge to scream out in pain seemed to have been swallowed inside me, along with that plant. I squeezed my eyes shut and opened my mouth in agony, but no sound came out. My left arm was at an ugly angle, underneath me. The pain ripped from my fingers and up to my shoulder, and then rippled into a agonising tingle as I slowly lost the feeling in my entire arm. I wanted to move and ease the pain, but I couldn't. I could hardly breathe. I couldn't define anything I saw, it was all so screwed up! Whatever that plant was, it sure had made the world a blurry, painful place. I felt strong hands encircle my throat and hold - tight. I tried desperately, but had no strength to resist. I laid there on the ground, motionless and let the air be taken away from me for a second time. Gradually, my body took away my awareness and I slipped into unconsciousness.
***
Janet, Sam and Kayla sat in silence. It had taken a lot of strength from Jack for him to tell them what he just had. Sam knew that was only the beginning. Knew that wasn't the worst of what her CO had been through, but it was enough for her. It was enough, because it was so hard for him to tell them. It had hurt him to tell them. They could all see it, burning so strongly in his velvet brown eyes. The sheer agony it had been for him to go through such events everyday and then relive it all by telling them. "Janet, I'd like to talk to you and Sam for a moment please," Kayla spoke so softly, as though it would be criminal to speak louder than a whisper. Major and doctor nodded and followed Kayla to Janet's office.
"What is it?" Janet asked, worried.
"He has been through some horrifying experiences before this, I imagine," Kayla said, "but this is very serious. I don't know if any other people he knows were there with him?"
"I was," Sam answered, "but not for long."
"So you went through the same ordeal then?"
"Not exactly. Not at all, really. I was tortured, but nothing like.nothing like that."
"No," Kayla murmured, mostly to herself. "I don't know what to make of all this yet. I can definitely see the PTSD, though, as you mentioned in the report I got, Janet. The signs are very noticeable, and for good reason too, I believe. Although, this torture he experienced, it was so, so brutal. So vicious, and heartless. Of course, I know that torture wouldn't exactly be a good Samaritans' job, but they've repeatedly tortured this man, until he was close to death I imagine. It's really quite a miracle he's still with us. I don't know how he survived. If this was a daily routine, as Colonel O'Neill explained, then he must have been incredibly strong-minded, and physically strong, to last through it."
Janet could see her friend was coming up with a theory. She could see, in Kayla's emerald green eyes, that she was thinking very deeply. "What are you thinking, Kayla?" Fraiser asked.
"I believe that these people, with their daily torture, were trying to send your Colonel insane," Kayla responded finally. "I think that they knew what they were doing so well and they knew, given long enough, he would eventually lose control. He would eventually no longer be able to hold himself together, and he would break. They were counting on him breaking. What a cruel thing for people to do."
"Do you think they wanted to kill him?" Sam queried, her eyes red-rimmed.
"Actually, no, I don't think they did," Kayla replied. "I think this was some kind of a revenge. I'm not really sure, it's just a guess, but I think something happened that involved your Colonel and they were torturing him as a punishment. Trying to push him over the edge."
Sam nearly choked on her own breath. Something involving him.torturing him as punishment. He'd made Sam leave. He knew they'd notice she was gone. They would have asked him about her escape. Where she had gone. How she'd gotten away. They were torturing Colonel O'Neill because Sam got away and they'd gone to P4C 237 together. It was her fault.
Tears started welling in Sam's eyes, and then began to streak down her cheeks. "It's my fault!" she cried suddenly.
Janet and Kayla turned to her, wide-eyed.
"What?" Janet asked, going quickly to her friend. Sam couldn't find words. "Sam, what is it?"
"It's my fault.God, it's my fault," Carter sobbed as Janet guided her to a chair.
"Sit down. What's your fault?" Fraiser begged.
"They knew I left.they probably traced it back to the missing GDO he took.they blamed him.they knew he had something to do with it. They tortured him because I left.it's my fault!"
"Calm down, Sam," Janet said, taking her friends' hand in her own.
Sam looked up at the doctor, her eyes red, with tears falling from them. "It's my fault, Janet," she said. "It is. He made me go. They knew. They knew he got the GDO. They knew he knew where I'd gone. They knew! They were torturing him, because they wanted him to suffer, for letting me get away."
"Major Carter," Kayla said calmly, sitting in the chair beside Sam, "I was making a theory as to what happened while your Colonel was gone for those four months. I don't know any of what I said is true. It's just a theory. You really can't blame yourself for something I am surmising. Please, wait until your Colonel talks a little more about what happened."
Kayla's soothing voice calmed Sam. She didn't understand how, but it seemed to relax her nerves and help her breathing slow to a regular rate. She nodded slowly and wiped her eyes. She was jumping to conclusions. She wasn't sure about all of that stuff she thought.
Nothing was proven yet.
***
After Dr. Mackenzie had been to the General, Dr. Fraiser went to put forward her beliefs. "General," she said, "Dr. Mackenzie is wrong in saying what he has."
"How so, doctor?" Hammond asked fairly, sitting down behind his desk and offering Fraiser a seat with a gesture of his hand.
"Sending Colonel O'Neill away to mental health will not be in the best interests of the Colonel, General, I assure you." Janet was very passionate about this now. Hammond could hear the doctor's determination by her tone. The way she annunciated each word and pushed forward her point of view.
"Please continue," the General said, nodding for the doctor to go on.
"Colonel O'Neill is not mentally ill, Sir," Janet began, "he's suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. It's very common following a life threatening or extraordinarily horrifying chain of events. Colonel O'Neill's situation fits perfectly with his symptoms. He's not sleeping, and when he does get a rare hour or so of rest, he wakes up very suddenly, sweating excessively and sometimes crying out. Whatever happened to him on that planet was not pleasant, General, but he is not suffering from schizophrenia or any other mental illness. PTSD, I suppose, could be classified as a mental illness, but in this circumstance, I wouldn't call it one."
"What are you suggesting then, doctor?" Hammond asked, interested in taking in her thoughts.
"Well, General, I'm not really sure," Janet admitted, "but I am sure that committing Colonel O'Neill to mental health will not do him any favours. His condition is not good, but it will only worsen if he's among other seriously ill psychiatric patients. He really needs to be around people he feels comfortable with. Talking is our ultimate goal for the Colonel, Sir. He needs to talk about what happened. It's the best thing for him in the grand scheme of things."
Hammond nodded, trying to understand the full picture from both Dr. Mackenzie's point of view, and Dr. Fraiser's. Both personal opinions were very different, but the General had a strong feeling that Dr. Fraiser's personal opinion was closer to being in Jack's best interest. Medically speaking, it may not be, although Hammond doubted it, but he was more concerned for Jack's best interests than the best medical interests.
"All right, doctor," he said finally, after taking a long four and a half minutes to think. "I like the thought of Colonel O'Neill's best interests being taken care of. If you believe it is best for him to stay here in familiar surroundings, then I trust your judgement. But, I cannot and will not let any of SG-1 return to active duty while their minds aren't fully with what they are doing. Until there is no further worry about Jack's condition, both he and the rest of SG-1 are on stand-down. Do you agree that's fair?" Janet nodded, forcing the smile away from her lips.
"Yes, Sir," she replied and began to leave.
"Oh, and by the way, doctor," Hammond said after her. Janet stopped and turned back to the General.
"I appreciate you coming and letting me know about all of that, rather than allowing Dr. Mackenzie to proceed with his professional judgement call. He's a good doctor, but not always so in touch with the needs of people." Fraiser smiled back at Hammond and nodded as she left.
Dr. Mackenzie was definitely not in touch with his feminine side.
@
"Janet, I need to speak with you," Sam said demandingly.
"Before you say anything, Sam - "
"Janet, you need to say something to General Hammond about Mackenzie's decision. He's a jerk and he doesn't know what he's talking about. If you say something, then - "
"Sam!" Janet said nice and loud, so Sam could hear.
The Major stopped and looked at her friend, her eyes still sharp. "I've already talked to the General," Fraiser said, allowing herself to smile. "He agreed with me. Colonel O'Neill is staying here."
Sam's eyebrows rose and the sharpness left her eyes. "Oh," she said, feeling sheepish. "That's good."
"Yes, I thought you'd be pleased. Now it's just a matter of getting Colonel O'Neill to appreciate our efforts."
Sam nodded, peering out of Janet's office to see the distantly distracted Colonel. "He still hasn't said anything?" she stated, rather than asked.
Janet nodded. "I just don't know what else to try, Sam. I've been through it all a million and one times in my head. I know we don't know what he went through, which is why he is the way he is now, but we can't help without knowing."
"He won't say anything, which brings us back to square one, I know," Sam filled in the gaps for the doctor. "I've been going over it all in my head too. So many times, it hurts. Now when I think about it, I just get a headache. It's definitely harder than physics ever was."
"No wonder I can't figure it out," Janet smiled. Adding some light humour to the situation was the only way for it not to depress everyone involved. It was already stressful enough.
"I think I've read every book I own that has any reference at all in it about PTSD," Fraiser added. "Even that doesn't seem to be any help."
Sam started to chew on her top lip. What else could they do? What other ways were there to go about this? "General Hammond also told me that SG-1, all of you, are on stand-down until Colonel O'Neill is not a worry for you all."
"Good," Sam said absently, nodding. "I'd really rather stay here and try to help."
"Well just don't forget that you need rest too, Sam. I know what you're like."
"Uh huh.don't worry about me. It's the Colonel I'm worried about."
"Yes, I am too. I just don't know what else there is we can do. We haven't tried everything, but there isn't really a whole lot of everything to try."
"What about hypnosis?" Sam asked suddenly, after a long space of silence.
"Hypnosis," Janet repeated, getting a better picture of it in her head. Would that be a good idea? She'd heard that if someone isn't willing, then hypnosis doesn't work, no matter what. If O'Neill wasn't willing, there would be no use trying. "It might work."
Sam nodded, almost to herself and then meandered her way out to her CO. His lack of talk would make it easy for her to explain the idea to him without interruptions. "Colonel," she said, sitting on the bed next to his. "Janet and I just thought of something to help you."
Although Jack's pattern of thought wasn't focussed on the words Carter was saying to him, he drew his eyes away from the ceiling and looked at her. Sam was grateful for the recognition. "How would you feel about trying hypnosis, Colonel?" she asked, almost holding her breath in anticipation. Please, Colonel, she thought, please try this. Please let us help you. Let us try.
Jack could almost hear Carter hoping he'd say yes. Hoping he'd agree to let them try to help him. Why? Why should he? He didn't need their help anyway. I just want you all to leave me alone, Jack thought tiredly. Is that so much to ask? That you just leave me alone? Perhaps if he let them do this, and it didn't work, then they would give up. Then they would realise how fruitless their attempts to help him were, and they would drop it. They would finally grant him his wish, to be left alone. Sam watched her CO's eyes drift away, while thinking. She could almost see the deep thoughts through his distant gaze. All she wanted - all they wanted - was to help him. That's all. Just to help.
"You don't have to try it, Sir," Sam said, to reassure O'Neill that he was under no pressure. "It was just an idea. We thought it might be a good one, but if you don't want to do it, that's ok." Using subtlety was probably not going to gain Sam any of the answers she sought, but it was worth a try.
Jack swallowed hard and asked himself the obvious questions. Was this a good idea? Would this make them finally give him what he wanted? If he did this, would he reveal the very things he was trying to hide? The very things he didn't want to remember. Would this make everything harder, or easier? Was it worth the risk? Was it worth trying?
"Ok," he said finally and very quietly. He knew Carter had heard him. Sam nodded, almost to herself and forced the mild smile away from her face. She wasn't sure she was ready to hear what her CO had been through on P4C 237 after she left, but it wasn't about her. This was going to help Colonel O'Neill. He needed this help. They all knew he needed it.
@
"Janet." Dr. Fraiser turned around to see her friend standing in the doorway of her office, looking just as young and vivacious as she always had.
"Kayla," Janet smiled and approached the woman.
"Oh, it has been a long time, hasn't it?" Kayla asked as she embraced her friend and then pushed her back to take a look at her. "Ah, you still look lovely, Janet," she smiled.
"So do you," Fraiser returned the compliment and invited her friend to sit down. Kayla O'Shaunessy and Janet Fraiser had been friends since high school. The pair hadn't seen each other in years, and were pleased to see one another after such a long time.
Kayla was a short woman, perhaps a few inches taller than Janet. Her wavy, short, ash-blonde hair sat on the back of her head in a neat bun, as she always wore it for work. Out, it rested just below her shoulders. Her shimmering green eyes were as vibrant as Janet remembered them, and Kayla's smile hadn't changed a bit; it could still light up anyone's day. Her pasty white Irish skin was still as clean and youthful as ever, and she still had her trim figure. The two women smiled at each other for a long moment. "Well, I must say," Kayla said, "I was surprised when they told me you would be here."
Kayla had studied in similar fields as Janet, but then moved on to specialize in Psychology later. Janet had no idea Kayla was in any way involved with The Pentagon or organizations around the SGC, but clearly, she was, otherwise they wouldn't have sent her. "I'm just as surprised that you're here," Janet smiled, offering her friend a seat.
"I've no doubt," Kayla's beautiful Irish accent was still as prominent as ever when she spoke.
Janet had always loved it. "Now, you must help me out here, Janet," Kayla said. "I know everything about this place is classified because all I'm allowed to know about your patient is his name."
"Yeah," Janet almost sighed at the thought, "it's a bit like that around here."
"So I guessed," Kayla laughed. "Surely you can tell me a little more about this, Colonel O'Neill."
"Not a lot, I'm afraid."
"I see. Well I suppose I'll have to find out for myself then, won't I?" Kayla smiled brightly, revealing her lovely straight, gleaming white teeth. "Where is he, then?"
"Janet."
Another voice invited itself into the conversation. When Janet lifted her eyes to see Sam standing in the doorway, she smiled. "Sam," the doctor said, "come in."
"Well, hello," Kayla greeted the Major cheerfully; standing up and smiling her dazzling smile once again.
Sam smiled uncertainly, without showing her teeth, and then looked back to Janet for an introduction. "Oh!" the doctor exclaimed, also standing up. "Sam, this is a friend of mine, Kayla O'Shaunessy. She's here to help with the hypnosis you suggested trying. Kayla, this is Major Carter."
"It's nice to meet you," Kayla said, nodding her head. "You're Sam Carter then, are you?"
"Yeah," Sam replied, still feeling a little out of it. "You're."
"Irish," Kayla smiled with a giggle, "sure am. Are you my patients'. wife?" A rope almost wrapped around Sam's neck at the thought. She could almost feel her face turning blue, or red. Her mouth slowly opened, but no words came out. She looked to the floor and slowly began to shake her head. Wife.
"No, no," Janet filled in, "Sam's on the same team as Colonel O'Neill. She's his second in command."
"Oh," Kayla said, nodding. She almost felt bad now, for asking. She noticed that Sam was incredibly quiet and distant suddenly. "Are you all right?"
Sam didn't even really understand the words, but thought they might be directed at her, considering she was the only one acting strangely. She looked up and slowly nodded her head again. "I didn't mean to upset you," Kayla said, just to reinforce her apology.
Sam nodded again, equally as slowly as before, and then she began to leave Janet's office. "Sam," Janet called after her friend, "don't you want to be there when Kayla talks to the Colonel?"
Sam stopped. "Oh," she breathed.
"You sure you're ok, Sam?" Fraiser asked.
Sam lightened her expression and raised her eyebrows. "Yeah," she said, a little more convincingly. "I'm ok."
"Oh, that is good," Kayla added with a smile, "I don't need another patient, now do I?"
The group smiled and made their way to where O'Neill was.
Kayla surveyed the man and took mental notes. Blankness, distracted gaze, silence, apathetic. "Colonel, this is Dr. O'Shaunessy," Janet introduced her friend.
Kayla shook her head no. "Kayla's fine, Colonel," she said. "Would you prefer I call you by your first name?"
Jack made no attempt to respond. "All right then, I'll just stick to Colonel," Kayla went on, unperturbed. "Now before I do anything, I must ask that you two," she looked to Janet and Sam, "please stay very quiet. Any sounds or movement will be a distraction, and may cause the hypnotic state to be interrupted. Some of the things I ask, or some of the responses you hear may be disturbing, or unnerving, but I ask you please don't comment. If you feel upset or uncomfortable at any time, you can leave, but quietly. The same thing applies for you, Colonel. If at any time you feel uncomfortable or that you cannot go on, that's fine. You can very simply ease yourself out of the hypnosis. We can perhaps, try again, or leave it alone for today. I'm not fussed by either idea. Is that all right? Is everyone happy with all that? I'm sorry for the orders, I must sound terrible."
Janet smiled, and nodded. "Got it," she said. "Sam?"
"Yes," Sam agreed, "I understand." She wasn't sure she was ready to hear everything that had happened to her CO, but if it got too much for her, she could leave. It was likely she would.
"All right," Kayla said, "I'm going to begin now, are you ok with that, Colonel?" Again, Jack didn't say anything.
"I'm afraid I'm going to have ask you to respond, Colonel. I won't go on without hearing from you that it is ok."
"Yes," Jack said, "it's fine."
"Ok."
***
Once inside the torture chamber, the guards shut the door. Darkness surrounded me. I felt cold, but I wasn't sure if it was me or just the weather. The guard named Lopbell tied my thumbs together in front of me, with frayed, dirty rope. It looked like it had seen better days. I was pretty sure I'd be feeling like that soon. The other guard stood me up, stripped me of my shirt and wrapped some more rope around my wrists. Lopbell - who I'd christened Bell Boy - saw to my ankles. "It's not like I'm going anywhere," I told him, but I only got a fist across my face for my efforts. "Sure," I muttered, "you probably already knew that."
"Be silent," Bell Boy growled, practically throwing me across the room to the far wall.
I got up close and personal with that wall for a long time that day. After Bell Boy shoved me in front of it and had two other guards hold me against it, he got out his favourite whip. I didn't know how much blood I'd lost by the end of it all, but it hadn't been enough for me to lose consciousness. As far as I was concerned, I wished I'd lost more. After twenty-something lashes, I lost count of how many times that whip was thrown against my back. I could feel the blood running down my cold, bare skin and that the skin was slowly being torn away. It felt like it was all just hanging there, shredded like cheese. Bell Boy didn't seem satisfied though. It wasn't enough that I barely had any skin left on my back, no. No, he needed more than that. The two other unnamed guards gripped my shoulders hard, as though they wanted to dislocate them. Bell Boy left the chamber, but came back quickly. He had some leafy looking thing in his hand; I caught a glimpse of it as the door closed behind him.
My back was red-raw in pain, and that was an advantage for Bell Boy's friends. They both scribbled the blades' of their swords around, like my back was their canvas. It created ripples of flowing, burning pain, and I couldn't stop my mouth from opening. Bell Boy took the opportunity to shove his leaf in my mouth and then clamp his hands around my jaw to keep it shut. Whatever his leaf was, it sure as hell stung. My mouth was bone dry from dehydration, and the leaf, or whatever it was, sent sparks of pain down my throat. I wanted to throw up, and spit out the stupid plant, but Bell Boy's grip was solid. He wasn't letting go. One of his friends behind me lightly gripped my throat - checking to see I had swallowed the plant. I didn't want to swallow it. It was burning so bad inside my mouth; I didn't want to think what it would feel like if I swallowed it. Bell Boy didn't seem to care about that though, and had his other friend hold my nose, so I couldn't breathe. I could almost feel my face turning blue. I needed to breathe, badly. I could feel myself slowly losing consciousness. I had to hold on. But I couldn't swallow that thing!
"You will swallow it!" Bell Boy shouted in my face, as though he could hear my thoughts. I wanted to tell him that I wasn't going to. Tell him I'd rather die than give him the satisfaction, but when the tip of a sword again began to scribble on my back, I had to swallow. Immediately Bell Boy released my mouth and the other guard, my nose. I quickly drank in large gulps of air, like it was trying to get away from me. I felt like I was on a merry-go-round with monotonous music, only everything was happening too fast. The room was spinning around me as my throat burned from the leaf I had swallowed. Bell Boy smiled, he thought it was fun to watch, and then knocked me to the ground.
I hit it so hard, it hurt. My face stung where the dirt and small rocks had scraped my skin and drawn more blood. My head spun endlessly and my throat burned like I had swallowed fire. My vision was so blurred now; I hadn't even noticed how hazy everything looked. Bell Boy was just a fuzz before my eyes as he wrenched me to my feet by my hair. He held me, just above the ground, by my hair and stared at me. He definitely wasn't struggling to hold me up, which surprised me a little. I'm not that heavy, but I'm not light either, that's for sure. There was no notable effort in holding me up, though, from Bell Boy. He sneered and threw me away like a rag-doll. I felt like one as I landed and heard a crack. The urge to scream out in pain seemed to have been swallowed inside me, along with that plant. I squeezed my eyes shut and opened my mouth in agony, but no sound came out. My left arm was at an ugly angle, underneath me. The pain ripped from my fingers and up to my shoulder, and then rippled into a agonising tingle as I slowly lost the feeling in my entire arm. I wanted to move and ease the pain, but I couldn't. I could hardly breathe. I couldn't define anything I saw, it was all so screwed up! Whatever that plant was, it sure had made the world a blurry, painful place. I felt strong hands encircle my throat and hold - tight. I tried desperately, but had no strength to resist. I laid there on the ground, motionless and let the air be taken away from me for a second time. Gradually, my body took away my awareness and I slipped into unconsciousness.
***
Janet, Sam and Kayla sat in silence. It had taken a lot of strength from Jack for him to tell them what he just had. Sam knew that was only the beginning. Knew that wasn't the worst of what her CO had been through, but it was enough for her. It was enough, because it was so hard for him to tell them. It had hurt him to tell them. They could all see it, burning so strongly in his velvet brown eyes. The sheer agony it had been for him to go through such events everyday and then relive it all by telling them. "Janet, I'd like to talk to you and Sam for a moment please," Kayla spoke so softly, as though it would be criminal to speak louder than a whisper. Major and doctor nodded and followed Kayla to Janet's office.
"What is it?" Janet asked, worried.
"He has been through some horrifying experiences before this, I imagine," Kayla said, "but this is very serious. I don't know if any other people he knows were there with him?"
"I was," Sam answered, "but not for long."
"So you went through the same ordeal then?"
"Not exactly. Not at all, really. I was tortured, but nothing like.nothing like that."
"No," Kayla murmured, mostly to herself. "I don't know what to make of all this yet. I can definitely see the PTSD, though, as you mentioned in the report I got, Janet. The signs are very noticeable, and for good reason too, I believe. Although, this torture he experienced, it was so, so brutal. So vicious, and heartless. Of course, I know that torture wouldn't exactly be a good Samaritans' job, but they've repeatedly tortured this man, until he was close to death I imagine. It's really quite a miracle he's still with us. I don't know how he survived. If this was a daily routine, as Colonel O'Neill explained, then he must have been incredibly strong-minded, and physically strong, to last through it."
Janet could see her friend was coming up with a theory. She could see, in Kayla's emerald green eyes, that she was thinking very deeply. "What are you thinking, Kayla?" Fraiser asked.
"I believe that these people, with their daily torture, were trying to send your Colonel insane," Kayla responded finally. "I think that they knew what they were doing so well and they knew, given long enough, he would eventually lose control. He would eventually no longer be able to hold himself together, and he would break. They were counting on him breaking. What a cruel thing for people to do."
"Do you think they wanted to kill him?" Sam queried, her eyes red-rimmed.
"Actually, no, I don't think they did," Kayla replied. "I think this was some kind of a revenge. I'm not really sure, it's just a guess, but I think something happened that involved your Colonel and they were torturing him as a punishment. Trying to push him over the edge."
Sam nearly choked on her own breath. Something involving him.torturing him as punishment. He'd made Sam leave. He knew they'd notice she was gone. They would have asked him about her escape. Where she had gone. How she'd gotten away. They were torturing Colonel O'Neill because Sam got away and they'd gone to P4C 237 together. It was her fault.
Tears started welling in Sam's eyes, and then began to streak down her cheeks. "It's my fault!" she cried suddenly.
Janet and Kayla turned to her, wide-eyed.
"What?" Janet asked, going quickly to her friend. Sam couldn't find words. "Sam, what is it?"
"It's my fault.God, it's my fault," Carter sobbed as Janet guided her to a chair.
"Sit down. What's your fault?" Fraiser begged.
"They knew I left.they probably traced it back to the missing GDO he took.they blamed him.they knew he had something to do with it. They tortured him because I left.it's my fault!"
"Calm down, Sam," Janet said, taking her friends' hand in her own.
Sam looked up at the doctor, her eyes red, with tears falling from them. "It's my fault, Janet," she said. "It is. He made me go. They knew. They knew he got the GDO. They knew he knew where I'd gone. They knew! They were torturing him, because they wanted him to suffer, for letting me get away."
"Major Carter," Kayla said calmly, sitting in the chair beside Sam, "I was making a theory as to what happened while your Colonel was gone for those four months. I don't know any of what I said is true. It's just a theory. You really can't blame yourself for something I am surmising. Please, wait until your Colonel talks a little more about what happened."
Kayla's soothing voice calmed Sam. She didn't understand how, but it seemed to relax her nerves and help her breathing slow to a regular rate. She nodded slowly and wiped her eyes. She was jumping to conclusions. She wasn't sure about all of that stuff she thought.
Nothing was proven yet.
***
