Blame
Part 13 of The Asgard Sequence
Sequel to 'The Hammer Falls'
By Gumnut
Sep 2003
The universe sucked him in, chewed him up, and spat him out between its teeth.
His feet landed on the ramp, but if it had not been for Teal'c and Daniel, he would have fallen flat on his face.
As it was his stomach did a flip-flop as Earth's gravity switched sides. He had to sit down. Sit down now.
"Dan..." He coughed, swallowed, controlled his stomach. "Teal'c, down." His eyes widened. "Down now."
He was abruptly lowered to the ramp. He grabbed his head in his hands. Oh, god. Do not throw up, do not throw up. Aaach! Bile crawled up the back of his throat. Every muscle in his body tensed in a command to his stomach.
There was a clatter of boots on metal ramp, and a hand touched his knee.
He flinched. Just leave me alone for a minute.
The hand disappeared.
"Colonel?"
Janet.
Not daring to open his mouth for a reply, he closed his eyes tight, and held up a hand, shushing her away.
He just needed a minute.
Time passed, his stomach slowly settled down, and he was finally able to let go of his head without the world changing dimensions.
Opening his eyes he came face to face with five concerned friends. It was like he was at the carnival, those clown faces you threw balls into, mouths wide open, heads all lined up.
And they were all looking at him.
He looked at them impishly, particularly his Texan CO.
"Hi, General, long time, no see."
"Jack, are you okay?"
That question again.
"Dandy, sir. Just had a little reaction to gate travel. Not too steady on my feet yet. It's those Asgard toys, sir. Great for fixing the big things, a few side effects on the down side."
Janet spoke up. "General, I would like the Colonel down in my infirmary asap"
"Aw, Doc, I've been in and out of hospital all week, can't I have a break?"
Janet looked at him as if he was a five year old who had just broken her favourite china tea set. Gee, no wonder Cassie was so well behaved, thought Jack. "Okay, I'm going, I'm going." He mumbled expletives under his breath and she glared at him some more.
He obviously wasn't going anywhere without some help. He had a feeling he was going to miss that Asgard hover chair, no matter how much he had complained about it. With a hand from Teal'c and Daniel, he stood, none too steadily. The world seemed to be lopsided, tilting somewhere off to the left. Daniel tightened his grip on his belt, and they guided him down the ramp.
He was surprised to be confronted with a lot of guys with a lot of guns. Hadn't he just left a similar scene? The Asgard must have made Hammond jump with their 'takeover the gate' routine.
Realization kicked in.
He still hadn't found out about Thor.
Shit!
They had been chucked off the planet without a yay or nay. Thrown across the galaxy, sent home like good little children.
And they hadn't been told anything.
Thor could be dead. O'Neill stumbled at the thought, earning himself a worried glance from Daniel. Dead, never to be seen again. He hadn't even had a chance to say goodbye.
The anger in him told him he should have put up more of a fight, but logic prevailed. There had been nothing he could do to prevent leaving the planet.
The Security Advisor had seen to that.
And there was no way to go back.
God, he hoped Thor was okay, almost wished he would turn up unannounced, not caring even if he beamed him out of the shower naked. Just so long as he knew.
Knew he hadn't left a friend behind.
As they finally walked through the infirmary doors, the fear and anger had coiled into his gut and set up house...and it had no plans to leave until he found some answers.
**********
Thor al'ka kesereen of the Melsaran Steppe, Supreme Commander of the Asgard Fleet, Ambassador Elect to Earth, was absolutely livid purple with rage.
"You did what?!"
"Sir, please calm down, your condition -"
"To Nithhogg with my condition!" Even the High Councillor blanched at such language.
"Commander!"
Thor battled with himself, being held back from jumping off the bed and throttling the Security Advisor only by the warning in the High Councillor's eye. "What have you accused them of?"
"Nothing."
"Then why have you sent them away?"
"It was felt that with this development it would safer for both them and the emotional health of our people."
"Emotional health? By sending them away, you have all but confirmed anyone's suspicions of them. Do you not want to give them the chance to speak for themselves?"
"We did not tell them."
Thor did not believe he could get any angrier, but he did.
"What did you tell them?" He hissed.
"Only that you had been attacked."
"Nothing else?"
"No, Commander."
"Did it ever occur to you that they may be concerned?"
"Why, sir?"
If Thor had a weapon it would have been used.
"Do you not worry if a friend is ill?"
"Yes, sir, of course."
"SG-1, O'Neill in particular, are my FRIENDS!"
"As you say, sir."
"Well, what are you standing there for? Contact them!"
The High Councillor spoke up. "We can not do that, Commander."
Thor was not deterred. "Why not?
"We are treating this as an internal matter. If our suspicions prove correct the humans will be informed."
"You think they did it, don't you?" His eyes narrowed, laser sharp, glaring at the Security Advisor.
"The evidence does point in that direction."
"Have you learnt nothing from my reports? Can you not see the character of these people?"
"Commander, need I remind you to whom you are speaking?"
"No, sir, need I remind you?"
Black fire passed between two sets of Asgard eyes.
"Very well, Commander. I will leave you to rest. We will talk once you have recovered your sensibilities." The High Councillor gestured to the Security Advisor and together they left.
Unthinking fools, Thor fumed. His brow creased slightly as he thought of O'Neill. The man was still recuperating, Thor had hoped to be there to reinforce the Colonel's innocence to the Colonel himself. The man was carrying the guilt of the death of thousands and it was not his fault. Thor felt he was the only one able to prove it to the ailing human.
And now he was denied even that.
As for himself, he was recovering quickly. Tala had found him in time. There was no permanent damage. He was resting, regaining his energy, and would be fine in no time. But the question was still 'who?' Thor's suspicions led him directly back to the events involving Frere. If so, there were more rogue Asgard out there.
And if Thor had been a target.
O'Neill could be one, too.
**********
George Hammond looked into the depths of a pair of deep brown eyes and watched the pain well up.
It brimmed, but as always, it never overflowed, and slowly it was sucked under, dragged beneath those deep pools of ice, hidden, never to be seen again.
Hammond, in his position, had had to notify friends and family of fallen soldiers many times. He had seen tears, he had seen anger, he had seen hysteria, but with Jack he saw none of these.
Just the pain.
Its control.
And then the emptiness.
The soft sounds of the infirmary were loud in the silence.
"I'm sorry, Jack, there was nothing we could do."
"He was a good man, sir."
"I know, son." He drew in a breath, god, he hated this. "There is a memorial service scheduled for next week. We wanted to wait until you and your team got home."
"Thank you, sir. I appreciate it."
And George Hammond felt the Jack O'Neill privacy doors slam down. Time for a discreet exit.
"Well, Jack, you are off duty for the next week or so. Doctor's orders. I want you to take it easy. I need my second in command back in working order."
"Yes, sir." The voice was empty.
"Get better, son." Hammond laid a hand on the man's shoulder, and left.
**********
Lou Ferretti is dead.
Those four words wrapped themselves around his brain and squeezed.
Dead because some alien wanted a test subject.
Frere, Loki, and that bastard machine.
He felt anger, he felt loss, he felt like he was going to scream.
Oh, Lou.
The man had been a smart ass with a wicked sense of humour. A lousy cook, and a worse poker player. You could trust him to watch your six, and stand beside you under fire, all in all a great friend.
Gone.
Lying back on the bed, he put his arm over his eyes, hiding from the memory of that cocky grin he would never see again.
**********
Daniel closed his notebook, and rubbed his eyes. While on Othalla he had had little to translate, now he had a backlog to get through. He sometimes wondered if he should hold classes on basic translation for some of his workmates, it might lighten the load.
The thought of Jack O'Neill arguing with him over the meaning of some obscure hieroglyph brought a smile to his lips.
That would be the day.
C'mon, Danny, be fair, if it wasn't for Jack you would still be trying to work out which end of the gun the bullets came out.
Besides, the man speaks better Ancient than you.
Each to their own.
Okay, now he really knew he needed a break. Not only was he talking to himself, but answering himself as well.
He stood up and made a beeline for his coffee machine. He was halfway there before he remembered that some kind soul had borrowed it while he was away, and neglected to return it.
Damn.
Commissary coffee - blech.
But beggars can't be choosers, and he could drop in to see how Jack was doing on the way back. Janet couldn't kick him out twice in one day, could she? He could see if the Colonel had managed to weedle his way out of the infirmary yet.
He doubted it.
Janet had been present for his latest near death experience, she knew what he had gone through. Daniel would be surprised if Jack was let out of her sight by Christmas time - no matter how many medical staff the Colonel sent insane.
Yep, he was right, the commissary coffee still tasted like bilge water. He even found himself longing for that coffee-wannabe Sam had concocted for him on Othalla. It certainly hadn't tasted as bad as this. Urgh. The things he did for caffeine.
Jack was curled up on his side, asleep, when Daniel walked into the infirmary. A tuft of silvery hair and one closed eye peeking above the covers. Daniel hesitated, not wanting to disturb the somnolent man, but decided to sit down and wait for a while.
Since General Hammond had informed him of the death of Major Ferretti, Jack had seemed to collapse in on himself. He was quiet, far too quiet. Janet said he was hardly eating. He had just seemed to give up.
The man had been through so much in his life. Was this the last straw?
Daniel knew, regardless of how illogical it may seem, that Jack blamed himself for the many deaths of the Asgard. He knew he saw them in his dreams.
He saw them in his own.
And Thor. What had happened to Thor? The question haunted them. Sam had tried contacting the Asgard multiple times, no answer. It was as if they no longer existed.
O'Neill had been furious at first. Angry because they hadn't been told, angry because they could not go back and find out, angry because quite literally there was nothing they could do about it.
And there was nothing as formidable as a frustrated and angry Jack O'Neill.
Nothing.
By the end of the first day, Daniel didn't know whether he wanted to wring the neck of the Asgard High Councillor, or wring Jack's instead.
But after the days passed with no news, Jack grew quiet, kept to himself, and mourned.
Daniel preferred an angry Jack.
He knew what to do then - yell back. But a sad, distant Jack shut all his emotional doors and let no-one in.
Not even Danny.
"Can I help you with something, Daniel?"
The archeologist nearly jumped out of his skin. Lukewarm coffee spilled all over his hand. That one eye, poking above the covers, was open and staring directly at him.
"Jack, you're awake."
"I knew you had all those degrees for something." He pulled the covers back and slowly sat up in bed. Daniel saw him close his eyes as his equilibrium was disturbed. He still couldn't walk without the dizziness overcoming him. Janet expected him to recover soon, though, as long as he took things easy. Hence the compulsory confinement to the infirmary.
"So how are you feeling, Jack?"
"You know, it would be nice to be asked a different question once in a while."
Okay, grumpy Jack firmly in residence, watch your step, Daniel.
"Okay, Jack. Read any good books lately?"
He got one of those looks for his efforts. The one that usually precedes the Jack O'Neill Death Glare. Sort of 'Warning: one more smart ass comment and you're toast'.
Fortunately Daniel had his own facial weaponry.
He immediately put on his 'You asked for it, I'm only trying to help you' look, which was very useful for giving Jack the guilts.
As usual it worked.
"Okay, Daniel, I know you mean well. I'm just sick of sitting here." He briefly put on the look of a pouting five year old, and Daniel almost smiled.
Jack O'Neill was such a paradox. A fun loving child encapsulated in a battle wearied hardened soldier.
"Jack, we are just worried about you."
"I know, Daniel." Jack looked down at his hands. "I'll be fine."
"But if you just talked-"
"Daniel, I don't want to talk about it. I'll handle this my way." He kept his eyes firmly locked on his hands, avoiding looking at Daniel.
"You are not alone, Jack. Not anymore."
Jack looked up at him, tired and worn, the pain turning his dark eyes almost black. "Sometimes I think it would be better for the universe at large that I was. At least nobody would get hurt." His gaze returned to his hands.
"If it wasn't for you, Jack, many people more people would be dead."
"Tell that to the Asgard."
"Thor believed in you."
"And look what happened to him."
"We don't know-"
"Daniel, he was shot, most likely he is dead. Sometimes it seems that everyone I call friend eventually gets hurt. Look at you, huh, how many times have you been declared dead? Perhaps you should get away while you are ahead."
"Jack, you can't take the blame for everything." Daniel was beginning to wonder if depression was another side effect of the Asgard treatment. "Actually, I would say you are responsible for the fact that I am here alive talking to you now."
"Oh, great, now you nagging me is my fault, too." He rolled his eyes towards the ceiling.
"Jack, c'mon, you and I know it's the truth."
Danny, as much as I am loathed to say it - because I'll probably never hear the end of it - you are quite capable of handling yourself now."
"All thanks to you, Jack."
"Oh, and your great degree endowed mind had nothing to do with it, huh?"
"Don't play the dumb ass with me, Jack." Daniel knew he was pushing it. Mount O'Neill could easily blow up in his face, but he had to get his point across. "You know I know you better than that. I'm here today because of you. All those hours of training, workouts, everything you put me through, reluctant student that I was. You knew I would need it, and I did. It was you."
Jack looked like he didn't know what to say.
So he didn't say anything.
That has to be a first, thought Daniel, I must be getting somewhere.
"Thor knows, I know, Teal'c and Sam know, hell, everyone who knows you knows. If there is a way to protect the innocent, you will find it." It was Daniel's turn to look down at his hands. "What happened on Othalla was a tragedy, Jack. For the Asgard, yes, but also for SG-1. We have seen a member of our team accused, tortured, and blamed. We have seen his spirit beaten down, and now we are terrified we will lose him." He turned to Jack and looked him in the eye. "Have we lost you, Jack?"
The look on O'Neill's face was one of stunned amazement. All Daniel got was an almost whispered, "No."
"Good." Daniel stood. "Then get your ass into gear, because I am sure as hell not braving the universe without you."
And he left. A speechless Colonel behind him.
**********
Time passed. Jack O'Neill slowly recovered. The day he walked the length of the infirmary without falling over once was declared a day of celebration. Unfortunately, Jack sulked because Janet wouldn't let him have any of the champagne.
But eventually things started to return to normal. O'Neill became a familiar figure wandering the corridors once again, and although quieter than usual, still managing the occasional quip. His arm protected in a sling, Janet had released him from the infirmary and authorised him for light duty - translation? paperwork - as long as he stayed on base. Seems she still wanted to keep an eye on him.
George Hammond had been ecstatic to finally get several piles of paper off his desk, they had started to accumulate cobwebs, and he was happy to hear Jack grumbling about it.
A grumbling Jack was better than a quiet, sad Jack.
He knew his second in command was still stewing over what had happened to Thor. Hammond was himself. He had come to like the Asgard. The people had been willing to help them on many occasions, and of all their allies they had been the most honest and straight forward.
Even if they stole his Colonel every now and then.
Jack had formed a friendship with Thor and despite his repeated protestations regarding his diplomatic skills, the relationship was one of the firmest ambassadorial ties the SGC had.
George smirked, thinking of Jack's reaction to the label 'Ambassador'.
Today Hammond, with Janet's blessing, had finally managed to send him home. Doctor Jackson had quickly volunteered to be a chauffeur and off they went. He told the both of them that he didn't want to see either of them for a good five days.
Jack had been heard to protest vehemently. Terms like 'nursemaid' and 'babying' were bandied about, along with complaints about Daniel's choice in cuisine.
Daniel had just rolled his eyes, Sam had been heard to snicker, and Teal'c had raised an eyebrow, but the truth was they were happy to hear the complaints.
The Colonel was back.
George's ruminations were interrupted by the gate klaxon going off, its strident alarms ringing through the base. The familiar cry of 'Unauthorised incoming wormhole' echoed off the concrete.
Damn, what now?
He was halfway out of his office when everything went dark.
Power blackout.
Shit.
Stumbling around in the dark, the conference room was suddenly lit by the swirl of the stargate's emerging wormhole. Hammond dashed down the stairs, two at a time, almost doing in an ankle on the last rung.
"What've we got?"
"Unknown, sir. Main power is down, iris is not responding."
This was familiar, it could only be one of two things - the Asgard...
Or Anubis.
He prayed for the former.
Samantha Carter, dressed in civvies, came running into the room. He had ordered her home two hours ago.
Typical.
SG-1 had been hanging around Jack O'Neill too long.
His prayers were answered as a small grey form arrived through the event horizon. Thor?
"Defense team, stand down!"
He and Carter hurried towards the gateroom, just before the wormhole cut out and the base once more was plunged into darkness.
By the time they reached the gate ramp, the lighting was coming back on. Hammond looked to their visitor.
It wasn't Thor.
"Tala?"
"Yes, Major Carter. I am sorry to intrude, but I have come with some urgency. May I speak to Colonel O'Neill?"
"He is currently off base. Can I help you at all, sir?" Hammond made it clear he wanted an introduction.
"Oh, sorry, sir, this is Tala, Commander Thor's aide. Tala, this is General Hammond, leader of this facility."
Tala bowed his head towards Hammond. "It is imperative that I speak with the Colonel immediately."
"Does this have anything to do with our sudden departure from Othalla?"
"Yes, indeed, Major. However, I am not here on behalf of our government. Commander Thor has sent me to ask you for your help."
Carter beat him to the obvious next question.
"Is Thor okay?"
Tala paused, as if hesitating to tell them anything, his eyes darting between the two of them.
"Commander Thor has survived his attack, and is recovering. However, that is not his major concern." He held out a hand, and suddenly a hologram appeared. "This is the weapon used in the incident, and the reason you were so hastily removed from Othalla."
Both Hammond and Carter sucked in a breath.
A P-90 flickered in the alien's palm.
**********
FIN
Part 13 of The Asgard Sequence
Sequel to 'The Hammer Falls'
By Gumnut
Sep 2003
The universe sucked him in, chewed him up, and spat him out between its teeth.
His feet landed on the ramp, but if it had not been for Teal'c and Daniel, he would have fallen flat on his face.
As it was his stomach did a flip-flop as Earth's gravity switched sides. He had to sit down. Sit down now.
"Dan..." He coughed, swallowed, controlled his stomach. "Teal'c, down." His eyes widened. "Down now."
He was abruptly lowered to the ramp. He grabbed his head in his hands. Oh, god. Do not throw up, do not throw up. Aaach! Bile crawled up the back of his throat. Every muscle in his body tensed in a command to his stomach.
There was a clatter of boots on metal ramp, and a hand touched his knee.
He flinched. Just leave me alone for a minute.
The hand disappeared.
"Colonel?"
Janet.
Not daring to open his mouth for a reply, he closed his eyes tight, and held up a hand, shushing her away.
He just needed a minute.
Time passed, his stomach slowly settled down, and he was finally able to let go of his head without the world changing dimensions.
Opening his eyes he came face to face with five concerned friends. It was like he was at the carnival, those clown faces you threw balls into, mouths wide open, heads all lined up.
And they were all looking at him.
He looked at them impishly, particularly his Texan CO.
"Hi, General, long time, no see."
"Jack, are you okay?"
That question again.
"Dandy, sir. Just had a little reaction to gate travel. Not too steady on my feet yet. It's those Asgard toys, sir. Great for fixing the big things, a few side effects on the down side."
Janet spoke up. "General, I would like the Colonel down in my infirmary asap"
"Aw, Doc, I've been in and out of hospital all week, can't I have a break?"
Janet looked at him as if he was a five year old who had just broken her favourite china tea set. Gee, no wonder Cassie was so well behaved, thought Jack. "Okay, I'm going, I'm going." He mumbled expletives under his breath and she glared at him some more.
He obviously wasn't going anywhere without some help. He had a feeling he was going to miss that Asgard hover chair, no matter how much he had complained about it. With a hand from Teal'c and Daniel, he stood, none too steadily. The world seemed to be lopsided, tilting somewhere off to the left. Daniel tightened his grip on his belt, and they guided him down the ramp.
He was surprised to be confronted with a lot of guys with a lot of guns. Hadn't he just left a similar scene? The Asgard must have made Hammond jump with their 'takeover the gate' routine.
Realization kicked in.
He still hadn't found out about Thor.
Shit!
They had been chucked off the planet without a yay or nay. Thrown across the galaxy, sent home like good little children.
And they hadn't been told anything.
Thor could be dead. O'Neill stumbled at the thought, earning himself a worried glance from Daniel. Dead, never to be seen again. He hadn't even had a chance to say goodbye.
The anger in him told him he should have put up more of a fight, but logic prevailed. There had been nothing he could do to prevent leaving the planet.
The Security Advisor had seen to that.
And there was no way to go back.
God, he hoped Thor was okay, almost wished he would turn up unannounced, not caring even if he beamed him out of the shower naked. Just so long as he knew.
Knew he hadn't left a friend behind.
As they finally walked through the infirmary doors, the fear and anger had coiled into his gut and set up house...and it had no plans to leave until he found some answers.
**********
Thor al'ka kesereen of the Melsaran Steppe, Supreme Commander of the Asgard Fleet, Ambassador Elect to Earth, was absolutely livid purple with rage.
"You did what?!"
"Sir, please calm down, your condition -"
"To Nithhogg with my condition!" Even the High Councillor blanched at such language.
"Commander!"
Thor battled with himself, being held back from jumping off the bed and throttling the Security Advisor only by the warning in the High Councillor's eye. "What have you accused them of?"
"Nothing."
"Then why have you sent them away?"
"It was felt that with this development it would safer for both them and the emotional health of our people."
"Emotional health? By sending them away, you have all but confirmed anyone's suspicions of them. Do you not want to give them the chance to speak for themselves?"
"We did not tell them."
Thor did not believe he could get any angrier, but he did.
"What did you tell them?" He hissed.
"Only that you had been attacked."
"Nothing else?"
"No, Commander."
"Did it ever occur to you that they may be concerned?"
"Why, sir?"
If Thor had a weapon it would have been used.
"Do you not worry if a friend is ill?"
"Yes, sir, of course."
"SG-1, O'Neill in particular, are my FRIENDS!"
"As you say, sir."
"Well, what are you standing there for? Contact them!"
The High Councillor spoke up. "We can not do that, Commander."
Thor was not deterred. "Why not?
"We are treating this as an internal matter. If our suspicions prove correct the humans will be informed."
"You think they did it, don't you?" His eyes narrowed, laser sharp, glaring at the Security Advisor.
"The evidence does point in that direction."
"Have you learnt nothing from my reports? Can you not see the character of these people?"
"Commander, need I remind you to whom you are speaking?"
"No, sir, need I remind you?"
Black fire passed between two sets of Asgard eyes.
"Very well, Commander. I will leave you to rest. We will talk once you have recovered your sensibilities." The High Councillor gestured to the Security Advisor and together they left.
Unthinking fools, Thor fumed. His brow creased slightly as he thought of O'Neill. The man was still recuperating, Thor had hoped to be there to reinforce the Colonel's innocence to the Colonel himself. The man was carrying the guilt of the death of thousands and it was not his fault. Thor felt he was the only one able to prove it to the ailing human.
And now he was denied even that.
As for himself, he was recovering quickly. Tala had found him in time. There was no permanent damage. He was resting, regaining his energy, and would be fine in no time. But the question was still 'who?' Thor's suspicions led him directly back to the events involving Frere. If so, there were more rogue Asgard out there.
And if Thor had been a target.
O'Neill could be one, too.
**********
George Hammond looked into the depths of a pair of deep brown eyes and watched the pain well up.
It brimmed, but as always, it never overflowed, and slowly it was sucked under, dragged beneath those deep pools of ice, hidden, never to be seen again.
Hammond, in his position, had had to notify friends and family of fallen soldiers many times. He had seen tears, he had seen anger, he had seen hysteria, but with Jack he saw none of these.
Just the pain.
Its control.
And then the emptiness.
The soft sounds of the infirmary were loud in the silence.
"I'm sorry, Jack, there was nothing we could do."
"He was a good man, sir."
"I know, son." He drew in a breath, god, he hated this. "There is a memorial service scheduled for next week. We wanted to wait until you and your team got home."
"Thank you, sir. I appreciate it."
And George Hammond felt the Jack O'Neill privacy doors slam down. Time for a discreet exit.
"Well, Jack, you are off duty for the next week or so. Doctor's orders. I want you to take it easy. I need my second in command back in working order."
"Yes, sir." The voice was empty.
"Get better, son." Hammond laid a hand on the man's shoulder, and left.
**********
Lou Ferretti is dead.
Those four words wrapped themselves around his brain and squeezed.
Dead because some alien wanted a test subject.
Frere, Loki, and that bastard machine.
He felt anger, he felt loss, he felt like he was going to scream.
Oh, Lou.
The man had been a smart ass with a wicked sense of humour. A lousy cook, and a worse poker player. You could trust him to watch your six, and stand beside you under fire, all in all a great friend.
Gone.
Lying back on the bed, he put his arm over his eyes, hiding from the memory of that cocky grin he would never see again.
**********
Daniel closed his notebook, and rubbed his eyes. While on Othalla he had had little to translate, now he had a backlog to get through. He sometimes wondered if he should hold classes on basic translation for some of his workmates, it might lighten the load.
The thought of Jack O'Neill arguing with him over the meaning of some obscure hieroglyph brought a smile to his lips.
That would be the day.
C'mon, Danny, be fair, if it wasn't for Jack you would still be trying to work out which end of the gun the bullets came out.
Besides, the man speaks better Ancient than you.
Each to their own.
Okay, now he really knew he needed a break. Not only was he talking to himself, but answering himself as well.
He stood up and made a beeline for his coffee machine. He was halfway there before he remembered that some kind soul had borrowed it while he was away, and neglected to return it.
Damn.
Commissary coffee - blech.
But beggars can't be choosers, and he could drop in to see how Jack was doing on the way back. Janet couldn't kick him out twice in one day, could she? He could see if the Colonel had managed to weedle his way out of the infirmary yet.
He doubted it.
Janet had been present for his latest near death experience, she knew what he had gone through. Daniel would be surprised if Jack was let out of her sight by Christmas time - no matter how many medical staff the Colonel sent insane.
Yep, he was right, the commissary coffee still tasted like bilge water. He even found himself longing for that coffee-wannabe Sam had concocted for him on Othalla. It certainly hadn't tasted as bad as this. Urgh. The things he did for caffeine.
Jack was curled up on his side, asleep, when Daniel walked into the infirmary. A tuft of silvery hair and one closed eye peeking above the covers. Daniel hesitated, not wanting to disturb the somnolent man, but decided to sit down and wait for a while.
Since General Hammond had informed him of the death of Major Ferretti, Jack had seemed to collapse in on himself. He was quiet, far too quiet. Janet said he was hardly eating. He had just seemed to give up.
The man had been through so much in his life. Was this the last straw?
Daniel knew, regardless of how illogical it may seem, that Jack blamed himself for the many deaths of the Asgard. He knew he saw them in his dreams.
He saw them in his own.
And Thor. What had happened to Thor? The question haunted them. Sam had tried contacting the Asgard multiple times, no answer. It was as if they no longer existed.
O'Neill had been furious at first. Angry because they hadn't been told, angry because they could not go back and find out, angry because quite literally there was nothing they could do about it.
And there was nothing as formidable as a frustrated and angry Jack O'Neill.
Nothing.
By the end of the first day, Daniel didn't know whether he wanted to wring the neck of the Asgard High Councillor, or wring Jack's instead.
But after the days passed with no news, Jack grew quiet, kept to himself, and mourned.
Daniel preferred an angry Jack.
He knew what to do then - yell back. But a sad, distant Jack shut all his emotional doors and let no-one in.
Not even Danny.
"Can I help you with something, Daniel?"
The archeologist nearly jumped out of his skin. Lukewarm coffee spilled all over his hand. That one eye, poking above the covers, was open and staring directly at him.
"Jack, you're awake."
"I knew you had all those degrees for something." He pulled the covers back and slowly sat up in bed. Daniel saw him close his eyes as his equilibrium was disturbed. He still couldn't walk without the dizziness overcoming him. Janet expected him to recover soon, though, as long as he took things easy. Hence the compulsory confinement to the infirmary.
"So how are you feeling, Jack?"
"You know, it would be nice to be asked a different question once in a while."
Okay, grumpy Jack firmly in residence, watch your step, Daniel.
"Okay, Jack. Read any good books lately?"
He got one of those looks for his efforts. The one that usually precedes the Jack O'Neill Death Glare. Sort of 'Warning: one more smart ass comment and you're toast'.
Fortunately Daniel had his own facial weaponry.
He immediately put on his 'You asked for it, I'm only trying to help you' look, which was very useful for giving Jack the guilts.
As usual it worked.
"Okay, Daniel, I know you mean well. I'm just sick of sitting here." He briefly put on the look of a pouting five year old, and Daniel almost smiled.
Jack O'Neill was such a paradox. A fun loving child encapsulated in a battle wearied hardened soldier.
"Jack, we are just worried about you."
"I know, Daniel." Jack looked down at his hands. "I'll be fine."
"But if you just talked-"
"Daniel, I don't want to talk about it. I'll handle this my way." He kept his eyes firmly locked on his hands, avoiding looking at Daniel.
"You are not alone, Jack. Not anymore."
Jack looked up at him, tired and worn, the pain turning his dark eyes almost black. "Sometimes I think it would be better for the universe at large that I was. At least nobody would get hurt." His gaze returned to his hands.
"If it wasn't for you, Jack, many people more people would be dead."
"Tell that to the Asgard."
"Thor believed in you."
"And look what happened to him."
"We don't know-"
"Daniel, he was shot, most likely he is dead. Sometimes it seems that everyone I call friend eventually gets hurt. Look at you, huh, how many times have you been declared dead? Perhaps you should get away while you are ahead."
"Jack, you can't take the blame for everything." Daniel was beginning to wonder if depression was another side effect of the Asgard treatment. "Actually, I would say you are responsible for the fact that I am here alive talking to you now."
"Oh, great, now you nagging me is my fault, too." He rolled his eyes towards the ceiling.
"Jack, c'mon, you and I know it's the truth."
Danny, as much as I am loathed to say it - because I'll probably never hear the end of it - you are quite capable of handling yourself now."
"All thanks to you, Jack."
"Oh, and your great degree endowed mind had nothing to do with it, huh?"
"Don't play the dumb ass with me, Jack." Daniel knew he was pushing it. Mount O'Neill could easily blow up in his face, but he had to get his point across. "You know I know you better than that. I'm here today because of you. All those hours of training, workouts, everything you put me through, reluctant student that I was. You knew I would need it, and I did. It was you."
Jack looked like he didn't know what to say.
So he didn't say anything.
That has to be a first, thought Daniel, I must be getting somewhere.
"Thor knows, I know, Teal'c and Sam know, hell, everyone who knows you knows. If there is a way to protect the innocent, you will find it." It was Daniel's turn to look down at his hands. "What happened on Othalla was a tragedy, Jack. For the Asgard, yes, but also for SG-1. We have seen a member of our team accused, tortured, and blamed. We have seen his spirit beaten down, and now we are terrified we will lose him." He turned to Jack and looked him in the eye. "Have we lost you, Jack?"
The look on O'Neill's face was one of stunned amazement. All Daniel got was an almost whispered, "No."
"Good." Daniel stood. "Then get your ass into gear, because I am sure as hell not braving the universe without you."
And he left. A speechless Colonel behind him.
**********
Time passed. Jack O'Neill slowly recovered. The day he walked the length of the infirmary without falling over once was declared a day of celebration. Unfortunately, Jack sulked because Janet wouldn't let him have any of the champagne.
But eventually things started to return to normal. O'Neill became a familiar figure wandering the corridors once again, and although quieter than usual, still managing the occasional quip. His arm protected in a sling, Janet had released him from the infirmary and authorised him for light duty - translation? paperwork - as long as he stayed on base. Seems she still wanted to keep an eye on him.
George Hammond had been ecstatic to finally get several piles of paper off his desk, they had started to accumulate cobwebs, and he was happy to hear Jack grumbling about it.
A grumbling Jack was better than a quiet, sad Jack.
He knew his second in command was still stewing over what had happened to Thor. Hammond was himself. He had come to like the Asgard. The people had been willing to help them on many occasions, and of all their allies they had been the most honest and straight forward.
Even if they stole his Colonel every now and then.
Jack had formed a friendship with Thor and despite his repeated protestations regarding his diplomatic skills, the relationship was one of the firmest ambassadorial ties the SGC had.
George smirked, thinking of Jack's reaction to the label 'Ambassador'.
Today Hammond, with Janet's blessing, had finally managed to send him home. Doctor Jackson had quickly volunteered to be a chauffeur and off they went. He told the both of them that he didn't want to see either of them for a good five days.
Jack had been heard to protest vehemently. Terms like 'nursemaid' and 'babying' were bandied about, along with complaints about Daniel's choice in cuisine.
Daniel had just rolled his eyes, Sam had been heard to snicker, and Teal'c had raised an eyebrow, but the truth was they were happy to hear the complaints.
The Colonel was back.
George's ruminations were interrupted by the gate klaxon going off, its strident alarms ringing through the base. The familiar cry of 'Unauthorised incoming wormhole' echoed off the concrete.
Damn, what now?
He was halfway out of his office when everything went dark.
Power blackout.
Shit.
Stumbling around in the dark, the conference room was suddenly lit by the swirl of the stargate's emerging wormhole. Hammond dashed down the stairs, two at a time, almost doing in an ankle on the last rung.
"What've we got?"
"Unknown, sir. Main power is down, iris is not responding."
This was familiar, it could only be one of two things - the Asgard...
Or Anubis.
He prayed for the former.
Samantha Carter, dressed in civvies, came running into the room. He had ordered her home two hours ago.
Typical.
SG-1 had been hanging around Jack O'Neill too long.
His prayers were answered as a small grey form arrived through the event horizon. Thor?
"Defense team, stand down!"
He and Carter hurried towards the gateroom, just before the wormhole cut out and the base once more was plunged into darkness.
By the time they reached the gate ramp, the lighting was coming back on. Hammond looked to their visitor.
It wasn't Thor.
"Tala?"
"Yes, Major Carter. I am sorry to intrude, but I have come with some urgency. May I speak to Colonel O'Neill?"
"He is currently off base. Can I help you at all, sir?" Hammond made it clear he wanted an introduction.
"Oh, sorry, sir, this is Tala, Commander Thor's aide. Tala, this is General Hammond, leader of this facility."
Tala bowed his head towards Hammond. "It is imperative that I speak with the Colonel immediately."
"Does this have anything to do with our sudden departure from Othalla?"
"Yes, indeed, Major. However, I am not here on behalf of our government. Commander Thor has sent me to ask you for your help."
Carter beat him to the obvious next question.
"Is Thor okay?"
Tala paused, as if hesitating to tell them anything, his eyes darting between the two of them.
"Commander Thor has survived his attack, and is recovering. However, that is not his major concern." He held out a hand, and suddenly a hologram appeared. "This is the weapon used in the incident, and the reason you were so hastily removed from Othalla."
Both Hammond and Carter sucked in a breath.
A P-90 flickered in the alien's palm.
**********
FIN